


A Path That's Clear

by AmyPound



Category: Good Omens (TV), Good Omens - Neil Gaiman & Terry Pratchett
Genre: Angel Crowley (Good Omens), Angst, Angst with a Happy Ending, Crowley Was Raphael Before Falling (Good Omens), Crowley is Raphael, Demon Aziraphale (Good Omens), Excessive use of flashbacks, F/M, Fallen Angel Aziraphale (Good Omens), Flashbacks, Genderfluid Aziraphale (Good Omens), Genderfluid Crowley (Good Omens), He/Him Pronouns For Aziraphale (Good Omens), He/Him Pronouns For Crowley (Good Omens), Heavenly Politics, I made up my own angel heirarchy and legal system, Implied Mpreg, M/M, Memory Alteration, Memory Loss, Other, Reverse!Omens, The Nativity, The Ten Plagues, angels have weird biology, is it mpreg if angels have no gender, reverse au, sorry my law student shines through some of this
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-09-25
Updated: 2020-02-10
Packaged: 2020-10-27 20:34:06
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 7
Words: 40,612
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20766551
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/AmyPound/pseuds/AmyPound
Summary: The Angel currently going by Crowley had taken the posting on Earth after the previous angel had been sentenced to Falling. Crowley had hoped for a nice quiet posting on earth away from the Angels he was angry with and following his ultimate commandment.Unfortunately, things were much more complicated as the new demon on earth was Aziraphale and all was not what it seemed.A Reverse!Omens au where Crowley is Raphael. Aziraphale and Crowley knew and loved each other in heaven. Aziraphale has fallen and does not remember Crowley. Crowley remembers Aziraphale.





	1. A Host of Holy Horrors

**Author's Note:**

> To my best friend, Angel, and beta. Without you I'd just be screaming into the void and messing up pronouns and commas.

Crowley walked along the Nile. He was there to help the Israelites out of Egypt. That was all. His corporation would be there lest the humans get separated and make sure all stragglers were still well ahead of any pursuing pharaohs. That was his job, protecting humanity.

He kicked a pebble angrily. At least that’s all  _ he _ was willing to do. The rest, well, there was a reason he’d happily taken the post on earth when debate raged over who would take Aziraphale’s place on earth amongst the council.

_ “Aziraphale was my responsibility,” Raphael admitted. Gabriel, Sandalphon, and Metatron looked at him in their usual condescending manner. Uriel seemed neutral on this decision thus far. “And as his failure has proven, we cannot send any one lower ranking than one of us, for the temptation of the earth is too high for anyone else.”  _

_ “It would be a fitting punishment,” Michael said. “Not only would he have to face the shame of existence in the place one of his underling’s greatest failures.” Her head turned back toward Raphael giving him a near imperceptible nod. “He’d be there for millennia.” _

_ “But Raphael, what if you were to succumb to temptation?” Metatron asked in that superior tone he always took. _

_ “We know you were close to many of the fallen,” Sandalphon sneered with an unamused gaze. Raphael bit down the instinct to hiss ‘you’re only here on this council  _ because  _ there had been archangels that needed replacing after The War’ and that he’d gotten a promotion for being good at smiting. “How do we know you will not merely use earth as a way to consort or conspire against us?” _

_ “If he were to consort, he would fall,” Uriel responded flatly. “We know this, and if it did not happen on its own, we would ensure it.” _

_ “Enough,” Gabriel said with a flick of his wrist. With Morning Star’s fall, and the making of Sandalphon’s promotion, he was the de facto ‘leader’ of the council. Not that there were supposed to be leaders. It was a council where all had one vote- or at least founded by Her that way. “The way I see it, Raphael is right, earthly temptation is far too high for anyone other than one of us. And, let’s be honest, none of us really wants to go to earth. So if we’ve got a volunteer,” Gabriel shrugged. “No reason to go against it. And if he falls, he falls,” he finished flatly. Raphael heard it for the threat it was. “All in favor?” _

_ It was decided, then. Raphael would go to Earth, just as he wanted. _

Crowley took a long swig out of the wine skin he was carrying. He probably wasn’t supposed to partake quite as heavily as he was, but given the circumstances, he couldn’t be arsed to care. The plagues had not been his idea, and if there had been votes on it, he’d have voted against at least half of them. Not that it’d have done much good. Gabriel’s voting bloc was running the show now. He sat down heavily on the bank, his head spinning.

He looked to the sky for guidance, his sky. He’d helped create it. It always oriented him, but it also reminded him of his connection to Her.

“Every first born?” Crowley asked, his words sloshing together. “Every single one in the city? In Egypt? In the world? Where does it end? I’m not questioning, Lord, I’m not, not anymore, but EVERY first born? Even the children, the babies? That seems a bit much.”

“Overkill, literally,” A familiar voice said from behind him.

Crowley’s spine straightened unnaturally and he sobered up (mostly) without the need for a miracle. He didn’t dare turn around. Because this was either a nightmare or he’d gone insane. Surely She would not be so cruel.

“Oh, sorry, did I ruin the moment?” the demon asked. He came up beside Crowley before taking a seat next to him. “Would you believe me if I said I didn’t mean to?”

Crowley forced himself to blink then he allowed his head to turn enough to visually confirm what he was hearing.

Aziraphale fallen was a sight Crowley could honestly say he never thought he’d see. His hair was just as shockingly bright as ever, but the slight golden hues had taken on a more silver tone. His eyes were still blue, but they were much darker. Aziraphale as he had known him had been the colors of a warm sunny day. Fallen, he was the color of a winter night. Still beautiful, but now there was a threat behind the beauty. Crowley couldn’t take his eyes off him as he mentally catalogued the changes he could see, such as a long scar that curled up the back of his neck ending just below his hairline. He wondered if there were more, considering most demons were quite deformed. 

“At first I thought you were talking to me, had noticed me come up,” Aziraphale motioned to Crowley’s wine skin and made a hopeful noise. He handed it to him instinctively. “Thanks.” Aziraphale took a deep long swig. “It took me a minute to realize you were trying to talk to Her. But I’d already came up with my joke and I wasn’t gonna let that opportunity pass me by.” Aziraphale handed the wine back. “Besides, I may be one of the “younger” demons but I figure interrupting prayer, especially angelic prayer, is probably good for my reputation down there.”

“Ehhh,” Crowley squeaked hopelessly.

“And now I get to school an Angel on manners.” Aziraphale said with a grin that quickly turned into a frown as he thought. “You know, I’m not actually sure if that’s truly demonic activity or not.” He shook his head. “Oh well I’ll keep it around, use it in a report later if I run out of things to write about.” He turned himself to look at Crowley. “I’m Aziraphale,” He said sticking out one hand.

Crowley’s jaw dropped at the use of Aziraphale’s name. He’d heard they were stripped of their names. He let out another confused sound.

“Oh, the name thing,” Aziraphale said with a nod. “Yeah, I may not remember anything about heaven, but I’m told that by keeping my name and keeping me on earth, your lot will see it as one big ‘Fuck you’ somehow.”

“Oh,” Crowley managed lamely. Aziraphale looked at him expectantly, then down at his own hand. “Oh right. Right I’m-Ra-Crowley.” He took Aziraphale’s hand, trying desperately to keep his heartbeat in check as he shook his hand.

“Are you not supposed to give out your name?” Aziraphale asked excitedly.

Crowley looked away embarrassed. That had been Gabriel’s idea too, so as not to alert the enemy’s agents of their plan for a new guardian of Earth, or his tactical value. Crowley had agreed to it, right up until a few minutes ago when Aziraphale sat next to him.

“How deliciously ironic.” Aziraphale said with a smirk. Crowley let out a slightly manic giggle. Aziraphale had always been funny, and now he really wasn’t looking over his shoulder. “Well then,  _ Crowley _ ,” Aziraphale said with a wink. “I don’t care much what you call yourself, so long as you share your wine before this terrible show really begins.”

Crowley handed it over willingly.

Michael walked down the corridor alone. She’d left a meeting with Gabriel and the quartermaster and was on her way to one with Metatron regarding the punishment for golden calf incident.

“Hello Michael,” Raphael said from a dark alcove after she’d passed. She’d have jumped, but used to Raphael’s sense of humor she merely rolled her eyes.

“That’s gotten a lot less funny now, Raphael,” She scolded instead, continuing to walk on. “Honestly.”

He followed. “I’ve got a problem.”

“Of course you do, why else would you want to talk to me?”

“Because you’re the only one left on the council I actually enjoy the company of outside of a purely professional basis?” He whined. “Give me a little credit, Michael.”

Michael stopped. “Raphael, what exactly do you want?” She asked trying to sound annoyed as possible, not wanting to admit he was right. That was the nature of their relationship, she’d pretend to be annoyed but usually be able to be talked into agreeing with his more reasonable ideas. Humans called it being siblings. 

“I’m actually trying to go by Crowley now,” he explained. “You know, we don’t need the enemy knowing we’ve risked another archangel,” he said short clipped, overly false enthusiasm in a pitch perfect imitation of Gabriel.

“Get to the point,  _ Crowley _ ,” Michael said with a frown to disguise her smirk.

“Hell’s demon on Earth?” Crowley began cautiously. Michael nodded. They’d heard tell Hell had a similar plan of influence as Heaven, one permanent posting on top of their select missions. She supposed this was confirmation. “It’s Aziraphale.”

Michael’s eyes grew wide. “No,” she whispered, as she began to silently pray it wasn’t true, for Crowley’s sake. “Please no.”

Michael looked at her sibling’s face and focused. She saw the dark circles under his eyes and the tightness of his jaw. “I’m afraid so,” He said through gritted teeth.

“No, why would they, he’d be newer to their ranks, why would they even trust him with that?” She shook her head in disbelief. “It doesn’t make any tactical sense.”

“No, but, it is, and I’m quoting him, ‘a “fuck you” to the council,’” Crowley said running a distressed hand through his long, flowing tresses.

“That it is. Does he remember?” She asked, her voice almost in a whisper. She knew he shouldn’t. No demon did. But she still worried. 

Crowley shook his head. “No, he said he didn’t remember heaven or even truly why he had fallen. Him being placed on Earth was an order. Keeping his name was apparently a gift from his superiors. But he doesn’t know why.”

“You spoke to him?” Michael asked gently. Crowley only gave a small nod. She lifted her hand to his cheek. “You poor thing.” She held her hand there a moment before stepping back to maintain the new socially acceptable limits of physical proximity. “Do you think Hell knows that you’re the one down there?”

Crowley shook his head. “No, it truly seems like they were right in that yes the council will consider this a” A runner angel walked up the corridor toward Metatron’s chambers, “a direct taunt,” Crowley managed, knowing not to let anyone, except Michael, hear him swear in any way other than a direct quotation to the council-One of Sandalphon’s regulation recommendations to Gabriel.

Michael nodded once then turned toward him. “You shouldn’t be down there,” she said, firm.

“Why not?” Crowley crossed his arms over his chest.

“He will tempt you to fall too,” Michael insisted.

He didn’t fall.” Crowley’s face curled with contempt. “He was pushed.”

_ Raphael had been away on an assignment in the Andromeda galaxy when the proclamation went out. “For the great crime of arming another with his divinely assigned sword, the Principality Aziraphale is hereby sentenced by the council of archangels to Falling,” Metatron’s voice rang through his ears. _

_ Raphael’s mind reeled. ‘Sentenced to Falling?’ Angels weren’t sentenced to fall by anyone other than the Almighty. That punishment had been Hers to deliver. _

_ In a thought, Raphael was in the council chambers. Gabriel walked up to him casually. “Raphael, there you are!” he said jovially. “Since Aziraphale reported to you, would you like to be the one who deals out the punishment?” _

_ “Oh so I can punish him but I can’t be at the vote for his soul?” Raphael hissed. _

_ “But you’d have to recuse yourself anyway so what does it matter? We sent a messenger angel with proper notice,” Sandalphon said far too smug for Raphael’s liking. No archangel was allowed to vote on matters concerning their troops. It promoted fairness and prevented any angel from abusing the system ever again, allegedly. This of course was also a new development.  _

_ “No messenger arrived. I received no notice. And besides that, for the pronouncement of his sentence you can just have Metatron do his thing?” _

_ “Notice of the meeting is an individual affair and requires discretion, given the heightened security measures we’ve had to implement. And given the severity we needed to act with haste,” The Metatron said, looking down his nose at Raphael. “The sentence concerns the entire heavenly host. It is a warning for how things must be now. We can have no tolerance for any disobedience in the ranks.” _

_ “Since when do WE sentence people to falling anyway?” Raphael was shouting now. “That is Her decision last time I checked.” _

_ “Raphael,” Gabriel condescended. “You know more and more The Almighty has been delegating tasks so she can focus on humanity.” He clapped Raphael on the shoulder. “We’ve taken this up for her as well.” _

_ “The sentence has already been decided, and there was proper quorum and a unanimous vote, according to protocols. There’s no point in arguing now. Do you want to carry out his sentence or not?” Uriel asked, sounding bored. _

_ Raphael shook his head. “No, no, I think I rather should go to my quarters and pray for the rest of my troops.” He tried to cover, but how could they ask him to watch Aziraphale be punished? _

_ The rest of the archangels shuffled out of the room, Michael lingered behind with Raphael. “You should go, just to watch,” She insisted quietly. She rested a hand on his shoulder. “It would be good for him to have a loving face there.” _

_ Raphael glared at her with the utmost contempt, the kind he usually saved for special occasions. “And what, remind him of how I failed to protect him? Just before he never remembers me again? I never knew you to be this cruel.” _

_ “So they don’t get suspicious of you too,” She urged. _

_ “Let them,” Raphael said. “Then I could be with him.” _

_ “Raphael please,” she begged. “You can’t work against this if you’re fallen. You need to be here, to prevent anymore tragedy. Use your influence for good. Please.” He hung his head, but did as his sister bid.  _

“Crowley,” Micheal said gently. “You know if I had voted against that they’d have had all of us in Hell in no time at all.”

“And that’s the problem,” Crowley pointed out with a shrug and wide gesture. “We were never supposed to have this power.”

“He gave away his flaming sword, what were we supposed to do?” Her voice was rising and pitch and she adjusted herself back to a more neutral tone. “Metatron and Gabriel were out for his blood for that, and you know Sandalphon is a sycophant on top of going along with whatever they say. Without you there that was majority enough. Uriel is allowed some self-preservation and I.” She shook her head. “I was trying to protect you.”

Crowley’s look was flat. “I don’t need protection.” He turned and began to storm away.

Michael ran after him, gently grabbing one of his hands. “Be safe Crowley, you know Gabriel is looking for any excuse to remove you from the council.”

“He doesn’t know, about Aziraphale and I?” Crowley asked, oddly calm. “What we were?”

“No.” She shook her head. “After his fa-After his sentence was passed I made sure to remove any reference to your request from the next formal council meeting’s agenda.”

“Then that’s enough for me to act like nothing is amiss.” And with that Crowley vanished from Michael’s sight. She really couldn’t blame him for his outburst. He wasn’t the only one who lost their partner in the fall.

The next time he sees Aziraphale he’s in Bethlehem, since stars were his specialty he’d agreed to be in town for that. Gabriel barely hid his contempt at having to work in close proximity with him, but Crowley figured the feeling was mutual so he sucked up his own anger and doubled down on annoying Gabriel. Nothing that could be considered a crime, but enough to niggle at him until this whole business was over.

As it was, due to a mix up Crowley had had to book the last room at the last inn to keep things according to Plan. Great planning on Gabriel’s part there, not double checking the bookings beforehand. Joke was on Crowley though as he felt guilty, being an active party to the young girl going through all this, outdoors no less. He stood on the roof of the inn, watching the young woman and her husband arrange themselves in the barn.

“It doesn’t seem right,” Aziraphale said appearing at his elbow. “In with the cattle, what sort of symbolism is that?” He adjusted his little hat on his head with a bottle of wine in his left hand. The blackness covered his hair, Crowley was trying to decide if that was kinder or crueler than the last time he’d seen Aziraphale, to hide his beautiful hair. Why Aziraphale was carrying two bottles of wine was yet another mystery to Crowley. “Other than that he’s a lamb for the slaughter.” 

“He is like them, comes from humble beginnings,” Crowley explained, his tone deliberately neutral. An ass in the barn released some incredibly loud pent up flatulence. “Very humble.”

“But still of the Line of David,” Aziraphale pointed out. Crowley could only give him a half hearted glare. “Though I suppose half this town could be from the line of David.” He leaned closer to Crowley conspiratorially. Crowley couldn’t help but inhale his scent. It still smelled like Aziraphale, sure there was more Sulphur and a little of Hell’s bile mixed in, but at the root, Aziraphale was still the same.

“David’s sons got around,” Crowley hummed in agreement.

Aziraphale let out a bark of laughter at that. “Understatement of the century. Six hundred wives, and that was just the one,” Aziraphale offered him one of the small bottles of wine.

“Oh, no, I couldn’t possibly,” Crowley tried to refuse.

“Please, I owe you one,” Aziraphale insisted. He pushed the bottle into Crowley’s hands. “From Egypt.”

“That wasn’t a whole bottle,” Crowley protested weakly. Besides, I’d give you anything, his treacherous brain supplied for him. “And, there was some nasty business we needed some liquid courage to get through.”

“Yes,” Aziraphale agreed, removing his hands from the bottle, forcing Crowley to hold it, lest it fall and shatter. The demon went to take a swig of his own bottle. “And there’s going to be some nasty business in the coming days.”

Crowley frowned. “I mean, childbirth isn’t easy, I’ll grant you that, but worse comes to worst, I’ve still got my midwife equipment and getup I keep handy,” he said, considering the bottle in his hand. “Not exactly pleasant for the woman but she’ll get through it, even without my help. But I’m happy to step in if I need.”

Aziraphale considered Crowley from the corner of his eye. “You keep midwifery tools handy?”

Crowley flushed. “Y-Yeah,” he said with a shrug. “Not enough miracles focused on women lately, you know? They get lost in the shuffle when most of the official power brokers are men.” That wasn’t entirely a lie. But it wasn’t like he could tell Aziraphale the full truth about why he was always ready to drop everything and help mothers and children.

_ Raphael and Aziraphale walked side by side down the corridor on their way to Raphael’s chambers. Aziraphale was being entirely too attractive in Raphael’s opinion and so they were going back to his rooms so he could show Aziraphale just how attractive he was. However a slight disagreement had sprang up. “Raphael, you’re being ridiculous,” Aziraphale said with a laugh.  _

_ “I don’t understand what’s so ridiculous,” Raphael said tossing his hair over his shoulder. “Your wings need grooming, you said so yourself.” He took a step so he was in front of Aziraphale and they came to a stop. “So let me do it for you. Please.”  _

_ Aziraphale blushed profusely, which drove Raphael mad with affection. “That-That’s not how it’s done, dearest,” Aziraphale said not daring to make eye contact with Raphael.  _

_ “I’m quite sure I have two hands, plenty of time, and am more than willing to help you out,” Raphael said. “If you don’t want me to groom your wings, you think that’s moving too fast, fine.” Raphael wouldn’t mention they’d already made love, that would be rude. He took Aziraphale’s hands in his. “But you’ve offered to do my wings and won’t let me return the favor.”  _

_ Aziraphale’s blush grew again as they start once again down the hallway. “Raphael, you’re an archangel,” Aziraphale emphasized. “I’m just a principality.”  _

_ “You are never just anything to me,” Raphael repeated for what he felt was the hundredth time. “Aziraphale.”  _

_ “Yes, so you’ve said, but from what I’ve gathered from my soldiers, and others in the barracks,” Aziraphale explained, “Is that when there are angels of different ranks who pledge themselves to one another, it's typically the one of lower rank who does all the wing grooming and… other things.” He trailed off looking past Raphael now.  _

_ Raphael took a deep breath, buying himself a moment there because that was a lot to process. They had stopped walking again. “Angel,” he sighed as he tried to get his thoughts together. “Angel, I love you, you know I love you. So why wouldn’t I show that by grooming your wings for you?” Raphael frowned. “Do you not want me to groom your wings?”  _

_ “No!” Aziraphale shouted. “No, no I’d love that. It would mean a lot to me.” Aziraphale shifted from one foot to another, if Raphael wasn’t holding his hands he’d be fretting with them in front of himself. Raphael smiled patiently, and ran his thumb across the back of Aziraphale’s hand. “Umm,” Aziraphale said, a shy, yet hopeful smile crossing his face. “I mean, if you’re truly offering.”  _

_ “I am.”  _

_ “Then I suppose when we get back to your chambers it would be fun, both of us grooming each other.” They started walking again.  _

_ “That’s all I’ve wanted Aziraphale,” Raphael said with a smile. “But I’m curious, what other things do you think you’re supposed to be doing just because that’s what you’ve heard.” He purposely bumped his shoulder into Aziraphale’s. “You’re my only source of gossip and things outside of the council.”  _

_ “Ah, well,” Aziraphale began. Some fledglings ran out in front of them, a harried angel running after them, shooting them a quick apology. “Well, for example, the lower ranking partner typically gestates and then cares for any children.”  _

_ Raphael stopped. They hadn’t ever discussed children before, he’d wanted to certainly, but between recovery efforts, mitigating Gabriel’s council maneuverings, and his typical archangel duties, he’d been a little busy. And his precious, precious few minutes with Aziraphale he’d just wanted to simply bask in his lover’s presence. Luckily they were practically at his chambers now so with a jerk of his head they made their way up the side corridor and into his chambers, firmly locking the door behind themselves.  _

_ “Is that what you’d want?” Raphael asked gently as they walked toward a sitting area. “Do you even want…?” Raphael trailed off, his whole body suddenly tight with anxiety.  _

_ Aziraphale tipped his head to the side in thought. “I-I would like children,” Aziraphale admitted quietly. “Do you?”  _

_ “Yes!” Raphael answers a bit too quickly. His face flushed bright red.  _

_ Aziraphale laughed, but it was a gentle laugh, and pulled Raphael in close. “Good, Good,” he said. “Well, at least that’s settled.”  _

_ “Yes, settled.” Raphael smiled broadly with a nervous laugh. “Do you want to carry a child,” he swallowed nervously. “Because I know I’d like to.”  _

_ “You do?” Aziraphale asked slightly shocked.  _

_ “Yes.” Raphael was firm. “And I know you’re going to say that’s not how it’s done and everything else.” He took Aziraphale’s hands in his. “But I know that I love you, and I want everyone to know that I love you. And if you want to carry one, too, that’s fine. We’ll have more than one. I’m more than okay with that.” He took a deep breath. “Is that alright with you?”  _

_ Aziraphale was blushing, but he was smiling broadly. “I think that it is more than alright, my love.”  _

Miriam cried out as the first birth pangs hit her, causing both celestial beings observing her to wince in sympathy. And causing an ache deep within Crowley’s heart. To be standing here, watching this, with Aziraphale. It was nearly too much. He was certain he could call Michael, get her to cover for him while he went and did some work in the cold reaches of North America with their people. He’d always liked polar bears anyway. The cold wouldn’t be pleasant for him, but it’d hurt less than this.

“It’s about kids,” Aziraphale explained. Crowley’s heart did a somersault in his body. He wasn’t sure that was physically possible, but it happened nonetheless.

“Kids?” Crowley asked his voice quiet and unsure.

“You seemed upset about Egypt and the whole first born business,” Aziraphale explained as if that made any sense. “I’ve heard there’s something equally terrible brewing.”

Crowley frowned. “No,” he whispered to anyone who cared to listen.

Aziraphale looked apologetic, an odd look for a demon, Crowley supposed, but not for Aziraphale. “I’m afraid so, my dear boy.” Aziraphale took a deep swig from his bottle. “Herod is going to meet with those Magi coming to town, feel threatened, any boy child the right age,” he sighed and stared out over the city. “Well, it’ll be bloody.”

Crowley uncorked his bottle of wine and began to drink.  _ Heavily _ .

“Thought you’d see it my way,” Aziraphale said, his tone oddly flat. Any other demon would be celebrating the slaughter. “And what’s surprising is that this is another one of your side’s ideas or at least they’re not stopping it. It’s a deliberate call back to the last time we met, or so I’m told.”

“I don’t know,” Crowley admitted. He knew there were many parallels to choose from and there’d been debate over which ones would be put into place, but he didn’t know for certain which they’d settled on. “They don’t notify me about votes on policy much anymore, since I’m down here.” He took another deep swig of his wine. “They barely inform me of what they want me to do.” 

Aziraphale eyed him suspiciously. “You’re allowed to vote on those things? Only certain angels get to vote on those things if I recall correctly.”

Crowley winced. He was tipping his hand. Aziraphale always had a way of getting information out of him, even when he wasn’t trying. It went against Crowley’s nature to not trust Aziraphale.

“It’s alright, your secret’s safe with me,  _ Crowley _ ,” Aziraphale promised with another knowing wink. “I may be a demon, but I figure that only means lying to one’s superiors is encouraged.”

Crowley snorted. “Fair enough,” he replied.

Miriam let out another cry. They each took a sympathetic swig of their wine bottles.

“So what are we gonna do about the other child situation?” Aziraphale asked.

Crowley choked on his wine. “We?”

Aziraphale nodded as if it was obvious. “Neither of us wants to watch state and heaven sanctioned murders of countless children again. You simply don’t want it and well, if anyone asks I’m thwarting it,” he said cautiously. He leaned dangerously close to Crowley so he could whisper. “We could do something, together, about it.”

“Like what?” Crowley said shaking his head, his heart surged forward in his chest. He wanted nothing more than to help Aziraphale with his hare-brained scheme. But with Gabriel taking such a personal interest in Her son and actually spending time on Earth he had to play it cautious.

“The census could conclude miraculously quickly, getting more families out of here,” Aziraphale suggested. “It wouldn’t save everyone.”

“But there would be enough of a slaughter that neither heaven nor hell would know the scales had even been tipped.” Crowley nodded. “Lesser of two—“ He bit his tongue.

“What was that thought, dear?” Aziraphale asked with a grin.

“Nothing,” Crowley said with a shake of his head desperately trying to ignore the endearment. “Let’s just get started, shall we?” He turned to face Aziraphale.

Aziraphale pouted. “That’s not fair, I had at least half an hour’s worth of tempting banter ready to go,” he whined before he finished off his bottle of wine.

“Yeah well,” Crowley finished off his bottle of wine as well. “I’m told I’m not a very good Angel, just ask Gabriel.”

“What a coincidence,” Aziraphale said with a smile. “I’m regularly told I’m a terrible demon.” They turned and began walking together, away from Miriam’s continued screams. “It would seem we’re a match made in-“

Crowley and Aziraphale both winced, though Crowley tried to control his, knowing Aziraphale wouldn’t understand.

“Well, we can certainly work together,” Aziraphale corrected himself. “From time to time?”

“Plan on making this a permanent arrangement then?” Crowley asked, trying to play it cool but his heart had begun to sing with hope.

“If you’d like,” Aziraphale offered with a grin.

And really, Crowley knew he should say ‘No’, knew he should turn tail and run in the other direction. But like he said, he was a terrible Angel and he was worse at telling Aziraphale ‘No.’ “Happy to,” Crowley said, sticking his hand out.

“It’s a deal then,” Aziraphale shook his hand.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hey guys. Talk about different from my last fic eh? 
> 
> Just in case its unclear: I'm kinda making my own angel hierarchy and rules, it's based on a familiar set up but if it's confusing let me know. 
> 
> Questions, Comments, Kudos, Bookmarks and recs are all appreciated. Cheers.


	2. A Planet of Playthings

Chapter 2- A Planet of Playthings 

Crowley tucked a braid behind his ears. He stood at attention before the other members of the Council easy enough. “As you can see the Council of Nicaea shall become a stabilizing force for Her followers for some time,” He said gesturing to a chart he had made for the occasion. He thought it was rather nifty if he did say so himself. “With canonical texts and a codified creed, Christianity shall stabilize so it can become the dominant religion of the world, ahead of predicted schedule.”

“Well done, Raphael,” Uriel said, offering him a rare, small smile. The smile threw Crowley off so much, he didn’t correct Uriel about his name. “This is incredibly thorough, good work.”

“I agree,” Michael said with a smile, and like she hadn’t heard him practice his presentation multiple times. “I think some heavenly influence to make sure this council happens and achieves these objectives seems a worthwhile mission for,” she considered his name carefully, “Raphael.”

“Thank you both,” Crowley said with a respectful nod in their direction. Crowley knew he’d at least forced a stalemate, the best he’d done in a while, when he actually got to a meeting. He turned toward the more difficult half of the table. Metatron and Gabriel were considering the chart, and himself, carefully, Sandalphon was watching them. “Any concerns, your graces?”

Metatron hummed thoughtfully. “What about the skirmishes that will no doubt arise as other acceptable beliefs to Her are deemed by the humans to be heresy?”

Crowley bit the inside of his cheek to keep from hissing at him. Metatron never gave a flying fuck whenever Gabriel or Sandalphon or literally anyone else made a proposal like this. Hell, it wasn’t a few decades ago Metatron himself was naming martyrs to be slaughtered left, right, and center. 

“Per precedence from Sandalphon’s handling of Peter’s execution and succession, as well as Michael’s compromise regarding Paul and the gentiles, the level of violence is well within acceptable range,” Crowley managed to choke out. He wasn’t exactly happy about the level of potential violence either, but he wasn’t going to let another one of his good ideas get shut down when other garbage ideas that were far more deadly were getting passed all the time if they were members of the right clique. “I have more citations within the handouts I’ve made, should you need them.”

“That won’t be necessary. You make a fair point, Raphael,” Gabriel said with a nod. “Supporting this seems worthy of further attention.” He looked purposely around to the rest of the voting members of the council. “All in favor?”

Crowley’s proposal passed. Unanimously. 

Crowley vanished his poster and took his seat beside Michael so the rest of the meeting could conclude quickly and he could get back to his duties on earth.

“The next item on the agenda,” Sandalphon began. “Is the demon known as Aziraphale.”

Crowley’s eyes shifted slightly to look at Michael. She looked just as surprised as he was, though you’d have to know her as well as him to know she was shocked. She composed herself quickly, “This wasn’t on the agenda. I didn’t approve of this.”

“It was added at the last minute,” Sandalphon replied. “By a simple vote of council members present at the time.”

“On whose authority?” Uriel asked this time. “This is most irregular and against the established protocols.” The only thing Uriel loved other than Her was protocol.

“This was an emergency that warranted discussion,” Gabriel explained. “No harm in taking care of business now, for efficiency’s sake.” Gabriel shifted in his seat. “Besides, we only learned Aziraphale’s duties on Earth recently.”

Crowley’s mind was reeling. What more could they do to Aziraphale? What more would they do to Aziraphale? He couldn’t protect him when they were both angels, how would he protect Aziraphale now that he was a demon? Ostensibly on the opposing side. 

“Raphael,” Metatron jolted Crowley out of his thoughts. “You are stationed on Earth, what do you know of Aziraphale’s existence there?”

Crowley’s mind was a jumble of unholy swears that would make Aziraphale blush in a similar way he blushed when Crowley used to whisper naughty things in his ear back-back then. “I-uh,” Crowley stumbled over his words. His own face began to flush. This is why he rehearsed things, damn it. 

_ “And in conclusion, that is why I think the kangaroo should be assigned to Australia,” Raphael explained to Aziraphale, who was sitting attentively on the blanket he’d manifested. He was the very picture of an attentive listener, except of course for the fact that he had love bites up and down his neck and somewhat exposed chest. But in Aziraphale’s defense, Crowley had put them there.  _

_ “My dear, your presentation was excellent, sure to wow the rest of the council, but you cannot send all the funny animals to Australia,” Aziraphale said with a shake of his head, but a fond smile that betrayed him. “It’ll develop a reputation.” _

_ “Reputation?” Raphael’s jaw fell open in mock affront. “Funny? What other animal is funny that has been sent to Australia?” _

_ “The platypus?” _

_ “What exactly is so funny about the platypus?” He marched up to the end of the blanket and placed his hands on his hips. “It is one of Her glorious creations.” _

_ “What isn’t funny about it?” Aziraphale said, keeping his eyes firmly on Raphael’s face, though a lovely pinkness was rising to his cheeks. “It’s a mammal that lays eggs, that defies all of Her established conventions.” _

_ Raphael rolled his eyes and flopped dramatically onto the blanket. “It’s no funnier than the giraffe,” Raphael insisted. He maneuvered himself so his head was in Aziraphale’s lap. “I mean, look at that thing.” _

_ “And where are those going? So help me if you say Australia,” Aziraphale chided. He threaded his fingers through Raphael’s hair. Raphael’s eyes closed in absolute bliss as Aziraphale’s fingers combed it and played with it. _

_ “Not Australia,” Raphael responded confidently. _

_ “Really? Then where?” _

_ Raphael opened his eyes. The celestial light of heaven lit Aziraphale’s golden curls in a way that made him almost look like he was showing off his halo. He reached one of his own hands to cup his cheek, and then carding his fingers through the beautiful curls. “Africa.” _

_ “Africa? Hmm. I suppose that’s acceptable,” Aziraphale replied before planting a kiss on Raphael’s palm. _

_ “You suppose?” Raphael said with a laugh. _

_ “Just be mindful of where you put the funny creatures.” Aziraphale’s whole face was blushing. “I’m sorry, I don’t want to seem above my station.” _

_ “You’re not.” _

_ “No other Archangel would say that,” Aziraphale replied. _

_ “But then no other Archangel has any sense,” Raphael insisted. He sat up and cupped Aziraphale’s face in his hands. “They’d be fools not to see how brilliant you are, how kind you are, how thoughtful.” He punctuated each statement with a kiss to Aziraphale’s face. _

_ Aziraphale tucked his head under Raphael’s chin to hide his smile. He was doing a rather poor job, considering Raphael could feel it on his skin, but it was probably best not to point that out. _

_ “Raphael,” Aziraphale whispered quietly. “You’re too good to me.” _

_ “No such thing.”  _

“I am aware that he’s down there,” Crowley managed to choke out. “What specifically do you want to know?”

“Whatever you can tell us,” Uriel said, matter of fact.

Crowley wished something was covering his face because he nearly rolled his eyes at Uriel’s  _ incredibly helpful _ suggestion. “Hell, uh, probably sent him up there as a threat or something similar,” Crowley said, he hoped coming across like he was speculating. “We’ve been in the same general vicinity a time or two, but I’ve remained undetected.”

“You’re sure?” Gabriel asked, surprisingly not nearly as condescending as he could be. But there was still a hint of it there that niggled at him.

“I’ve been on Earth longer than he has at this point,” Crowley pointed out, only mildly annoyed. “I’m far more experienced and far more powerful than he theoretically is, should there be any trouble.” He scrubbed his hand across his face.

“Besides,” Michael cut in, “In Raphael’s reports, which are on file should there be any more questions,” she reminded the council. “The most demonic activity Aziraphale has done of which we are aware of is as follows: He has prevented a few dozen martyrdoms, killed a priest in France and a few Italian bishops, and reports vary on if he did or did not start the rumor oysters are an aphrodisiac, a rumor which has led to an incredible amount of fornication.”

“So nothing major,” Gabriel said with a satisfied nod. “Even Raphael can thwart that easily.”

“He’s even more pathetic as a Demon than an Angel,” Sandalphon said with a laugh. Gabriel and Metatron naturally joined in the laughter. Even Uriel let out a small snicker.

Michael shot him a warning look, one that said not to risk himself over a slight toward Aziraphale, especially now. He knew she was right, but that didn’t make it hurt any less.

Crowley sat along the edge of the great hall of Charlemagne’s court. He’d spotted Aziraphale on the other side of the hall around an hour ago. He hadn’t wandered over yet, but Crowley also hadn’t made eye contact yet. That was partially because Aziraphale was facing the wrong way, but Crowley was caught in a terribly long and boring conversation with a Bishop and his patron who he knows he shouldn’t just blow off. But on the other hand, Crowley had stopped paying attention about fifteen minutes ago.

He saw Aziraphale turn to the side slightly. Crowley wanted to wave him over. They hadn’t seen each other for 20 years, a small little inn in Westphalia, they’d barely spent any time together (just a fortnight) but it had been fun and wonderful. However, with the other archangels now aware that Aziraphale was the demon on Earth, Crowley was playing their interactions cautiously. Or at least he wasn’t going to draw attention to himself. 

“And that is why Sir Crowley, the penis is the most godly of all organs,” The Patron said with a proud smile. “For women must be punished for what they’ve done.”

Crowley wanted to bite off his tongue and swallow it. As it was he managed a barely managed a strangled. “Do you think?” Crowley’s eyes flicked back over to where Aziraphale had been, but the Demon was gone. Crowley was hoping he hadn’t missed him but his eyes flitted over to one of the feast tables and there was Aziraphale, looking like he was getting ready to tuck into a nice roasted chicken.

Aziraphale must have felt Crowley’s eyes on him for he turned around until he met Crowley’s eyes. Crowley shot him a barely perceptible plea for help and then pointedly looked mock interested in whatever the Patron had just said.

“So tell me Sir Crowley, did you fight in the battle of Verden?” The bishop asked excitedly. “I heard four thousand Saxon pagans died for their sins, all in one day.”

As Crowley struggled to come with any response for that, Aziraphale was, of course, now right by his side. “Oh, no, do you not know Sir Crowley?” Aziraphale said with a shake of his head. “He’s a man of wealth and taste, and that doesn’t particularly reach a taste for bloodshed.”

“Even when it’s necessary in the name of our Lord?” The patron asked.

“There are times, of course, when it’s necessary, I just prefer not to put myself in those situations if I can help it,” Crowley recovered. “I find the Almighty is most forgiving when one has patience.”

The Patron and the Bishop turned politely then walked quickly away. Crowley’s head fell forward to hide his embarrassment. “Why do you always show up when I’m-When heaven- When-“

“When Heaven has just done something you don’t particularly agree with and causes you discomfort?” Aziraphale asked now tucking in to the beef behind Crowley. “I wish I could say it was Demonic intervention, but I honestly think you just have shit luck my dear.”

Crowley’s head dipped even lower. “Great,” Crowley hissed sarcastically. “Swell.”

“At least you know whenever you’re struggling, there I’ll be,” Aziraphale said with a smile all faux sweetness. They’d developed this dance about two centuries ago, at Crowley’s insistence, so they could have plausible deniability should something happen. Aziraphale ripped off some bread and stuffed it into his mouth. “So were you really not here for the battle?” Aziraphale asked. “Because I was. I mean, I wasn’t there, didn’t fight, but I may have helped spread the truth of the battle a bit further and quicker than it’d have gone organically, but that’s it.”

Crowley shot a confused look at Aziraphale. “Why would you do that?”

“One, this will prolong the war, self explanatory that, keeps my bosses off my back for a while.” Aziraphale grinned and leaned closer to Crowley. “But I also have a theory: As humanity’s morals grow in change the slaughter of four thousand pagans will be used against the blind devotion of her followers. Make them question the church’s morality. Or so I hope.”

Crowley blinked at him. It was something truly nefarious. It was small, but Aziraphale was absolutely right, if humanity one day decided slaughter in the name of religion was no longer acceptable, it would cause just enough people to question the faith. And with the current administration in heaven seemingly happy to allow this kind of slaughter regularly, over Raphael’s objections (when he actually knew there was a meeting) Aziraphale could likely milk this for centuries. “That is impressive,” Crowley admitted with a small nod. “You’re playing a long game there Aziraphale. But I can’t say it won’t be effective.”

“Yes,” Aziraphale said with a small hesitant smile. “My superiors may not understand the nuances of Earth, but I’m glad someone around here does.”

A serving girl walked by with a full jug of something alcoholic. Crowley grabbed it and two cups. He poured them each a glass. As he handed Aziraphale his, their fingertips brushed ever so lightly against each other. Crowley tried desperately to tamp down on his heart which was now beating erratically. “Your lot tries to tell you how Humanity works then?” Crowley asks, trying to deflect from his now flushed demeanor, from just a brush of hands like he’s a fledgling. “Despite never interacting with a living human in centuries they think they know how to do your job better than you?”

“All the fucking time,” Aziraphale said raising his glass in a toast to Crowley, which Crowley returned. “To shitty bosses.”

“To coworkers who micromanage you.” Crowley took his glass back and took a healthy swig from his cup.

“So if not for the battle, and Christianity’s great triumph,” he rolled his eyes. “Why are you here?” Aziraphale continued to pick at various foods within reach at their table, and even a few Crowley knew weren’t in this part of the world yet. Not that Crowley would say a word.

Crowley blushed and not because the drink was particularly strong either. “I’m headed to Barcelona, but I may have taken the long way there. Though, really every time I don’t just use a miracle to go somewhere new is the long way. ”

Aziraphale frowned, some sauce of some kind was smeared over his cheek. It took all of Crowley’s self control not to wipe it off, slowly, with his thumb. And that was his tamer fantasy. “I heard you’d been in Sicily not too long ago, you don’t need to swing through this part of Europe to get to Barcelona. You don’t even have to travel by land if you can handle sea travel.”

Crowley quickly took another deep sip from his wine cup, frowning when he drained it all. He hadn’t drank that much already, surely? He placed the cup on the table as he went to pour himself another. “I-uh,” he began eloquently. His face was surely as red as his hair if the heat he felt was any indication. “Well.”

“You missed me didn’t you?” Aziraphale said, like Crowley had revealed to him some great secret. Crowley tried to look away to hide his embarrassment further. He should have known Aziraphale had a way of getting the truth out of him.

_ “An inspection?” Aziraphale said with a tilt of his eyebrow. An angel who didn’t know Aziraphale as well as him may have thought he was actually upset by the idea of a surprise inspection, but Raphael could see the corners of his mouth fighting the urge to turn upward. “I thought you were supposed to be in Andromeda?” _

_ “I’m to take the builders there tomorrow, repair some stars demons have disrupted,” Raphael said. He held his hands behind his back, just under his wings, as he paced along the wall Aziraphale was patrolling. “That was on Metatron’s orders.” _

_ “You take orders from Metatron?” Aziraphale asked confused. “Forgive me my dear- er, sir, but aren’t you both the same rank?” _

_ Raphael winced, trust Aziraphale to figure out his discomfort right away. “Well, yes,” he admitted. “Buuut, things have changed on the council since-“ Raphael hesitated. It was difficult to talk about for nearly every Angel still. The war and the fall. His wings twitched in agitation. They couldn’t even agree if they should fill Morning Star’s position or leave it permanently empty and the council was stalled at six members.  _

_ “Since everything,” Aziraphale supplied, shooting him a sympathetic smile. _

_ Raphael smiled at him in turn “Sandalphon’s promotion has changed the whole balance and dynamics of the council. The best I can hope for is they either don’t do anything I disagree with, or on rare occasions force a stalemate.” Things used to be so much more amorphous. One day he’d be working with Uriel,  _ _ Barachiel _ _ , and Gabriel on some plans for animal disbursement, the next, he’d be chatting with Morning Star, Michael and Metatron regarding his work in the stars and sharing a laugh. It was simpler then. _

_ “Sandalphon?” Aziraphale asked, shifting on his feet uncomfortably. Aziraphale didn’t get tired. Raphael was well aware of his hidden stamina, in many arenas of his existence, Aziraphale wouldn’t move out of tiredness. _

_ “Something wrong with Sandalphon?” Raphael asked quietly, he couldn’t see the other angels of the Garden, it was too big to easily see them, but he knew this conversation still required some caution. _

_ Aziraphale fidgeted more, awkwardly turning his sword’s handle over and over in his hand. “I really shouldn’t, especially now,” Aziraphale said. _

_ “Then don’t tell me as an archangel,” Raphael said with a shrug and a step closer to Aziraphale. “Tell me as someone who loves you.” He gave Aziraphale a gentle look. “If you’re comfortable.” _

_ Aziraphale shot him a smile so bright, Raphael was still trying to create stars that could compete with it. “I love you too,” Aziraphale sighed happily. He took a deep breath. “Sandalphon, well, he can, he can be a bit rude,” Aziraphale said. “Very short with anyone of lower rank than him. And he was a Virtue before this ‘promotion’ so that meant, well, a Principality?” Aziraphale shook his head. “A few weeks ago, when I ended that skirmish with those demons who’d snuck into the records hall?” Raphael frowned at the memory, it had been an ambush, but Aziraphale had survived in spite of the lack of warning. He’d been so relieved to see Aziraphale alive he hadn’t paid much attention to anything else. “Sandalphon still managed find fault for how messy the whole thing was, since they all had physical bodies, had to clean up the mess myself.” _

_ “But,” Raphael began with a frown. “Sandalphon doesn’t report to me. He reports, reported, to Gabriel. He shouldn’t have been giving you orders at all. In fact he shouldn’t still. It goes against all known protocols.” Angels had a strict hierarchy. The Archangels were at the top and each had angels of all ranks beneath them. It was considered rude to order an angel about who didn’t report to you except in the direst of emergencies. There were no formal punishments for it, but if it was reported to a superior officer you could expect a firm chewing out. _

_ “Try telling him that,” Aziraphale said with an eye roll. _

_ “I will.” _

_ “No don’t!” Aziraphale said, reaching out to Raphael with his free hand. “Please, I don’t want to cause any trouble for you, especially now that he’s- well, you know.” _

_ “Protecting order, and defending you is not any trouble at all,” Raphael insisted, taking Aziraphale’s hand in his. _

_ “But all of Gabriel’s upper officers are like that, throwing their titles around no matter who a particular angel reports to, and gossip flies faster than you or I in the barracks,” Aziraphale said, plaintively. “Please just drop it.” _

_ Raphael nodded. “If you insist.” He gave Aziraphale’s hand a fond squeeze. “But once we’re publicly bound, I don’t know if I’ll be able to make such promises.” _

_ Aziraphale was blushing now. “Well, I suppose that would be acceptable.” He offered Raphael a small smile. “I’d love to see the look on Sandalphon’s face when you announce you’re with child. My child.” _

_ Raphael grinned. “I’ll make sure you’re there.” _

“Perhaps, or perhaps I heard tale of demonic activity in the region and made a detour so I could put a stop to it,” Crowley said trying to keep an air of plausible deniability.

Aziraphale sighed and clapped Crowley on the shoulder. “Well, I’m touched either way,” Aziraphale said with a smile. “I missed you too by the way.”

Crowley rolled his eyes and tried to hide the heat rising in his face. “Thanks, I guess,” he mumbled into his cup.

“You know, it’s funny,” Aziraphale said with a conspiratorial grin. “I’m supposed to head to Barcelona soon as well.”

“Is that so?” Crowley asked trying to play it neutral. “For what infernal purpose do the legions of Hell send you to Barcelona?” 

“You know, I’m not really sure but I figure I can come up with something while we travel there.” 

“You’re terrible, angel,” Crowley said with a laugh and another sip from his cup. 

Then the reality of what he said hit him, nearly causing him to spontaneously discorporate. He didn’t dare look at Aziraphale, afraid of, whatever emotion he’d find there. He slunk lower against the table, hoping to be absorbed into the wood grain. 

“Care to explain that one?” Aziraphale asked sliding closer to him. 

“Not particularly,” Crowley said. He got up to leave the hall. Or he tried to, Azriaphale caught up to him just outside, Crowley felt them become invisible to mortal eyes. Aziraphale’s doing. 

“Crowley, talk to me.” Aziraphale insisted. 

“I can’t,” Crowley said, his shoulders dropping forward in defeat. “Surely you know I can’t.” 

“Why not? You knew me,” Azriaphale said, walking up to him and coming to stand in front of him. “You knew me before. You’ve known this whole time. You knew me and you’ve never said a blessed word about it.” 

Crowley couldn’t look him in the eye. “Aziraphale, please,” Crowley begged. He didn’t want to hurt Aziraphale, add to the anguish. 

“Please what? Please don’t ask who the  _ fuck _ I was before I fell?” Aziraphale threw back at him. “That’s not fair. You  _ know _ that’s not fair.” He crowded into Crowley’s personal space. “You know, I’m the only demon who remembers  _ nothing _ about heaven?” He laughed, but it was hollow. “Literally every other demon at least remembers parts of who they were and what they did in Her service, what they did to cause them to fall, most remember a majority of their celestial existence!” 

Crowley frowned in confusion. “What? No, no we were told you all lost your memories,” he explained. “That it was part of your punishment.” Crowley shook his head. “We were told none of you remembered anything other than you rebelled. I-.” But Crowley couldn’t come up with anything else to say. What was there to say? So much and nothing all at the same time. 

Aziraphale grabbed Crowley’s chin and forced him to look him in the eye, the sudden touch and movement causing him to gasp involuntarily. Azriaphale was watching his face intently and for the first time in his history of knowing Aziraphale, he couldn’t place the emotion on his face. “No, oh no my dear, just me. I thought you, after everything we’ve done, of all angels, knew better than to blindly follow the party line.” Aziraphale considered his face a moment longer. “On second thought, I don’t think I want to go to Barcelona.” 

And with that the demon was gone. Crowley couldn’t blame him. 

Michael was in her private chambers going over reports from lower guardian angels and compiling them for a memo to Gabriel regarding overall efficacy of the program (“Maximizing efficiency is never the wrong answer,” Gabriel had explained at a meeting.) when she noticed Crowley lurking in the corner. 

“How was Barcelona?” Michael asked politely, ruining any prank he was planning. 

“Awful,” Crowley sneered. 

“Yes your report did make it seem like things went rather poorly,” she said shuffling paperwork around and putting it away for now, knowing no more would get done for a time. “If you can work in some good deeds before the end of the century I won’t even have to struggle to hide it from Gabriel.” 

“Why the fuck do I have to worry about Gabriel’s opinion?” Crowley spat, he charged out of his dark corner and slammed his hands on her desk. “We’re meant to be equals.” 

“I know,” she replied calmly. “However, that’s not the current reality, and until we can get Uriel to consistently vote with us, or get back to an uneven seven like it’s supposed to be, this is what we have to deal with.” Michael looked up at Crowley. “You cut your hair,” she said with a small frown. His red locks barely covered his head, it looked like he may have shaved it some months back, if she remembered human hair growth rates correctly, and she did. 

“You don’t want to talk about my haircut,” Crowley sneered. 

“And you didn’t come here to yell about Gabriel, no matter how cathartic you find it,” she said miracling up a chair behind him. “Sit down Crowley, please.” 

Crowley collapsed into the chair, his long limbs sprawled out widely. “I fucked up.” 

“I’m sure it’s nothing a miracle or two and shifting of ledgers can’t fix.” 

Crowley suddenly had a bottle of wine in his hands. He drank directly from it. 

“Perhaps the wine is a source of your problems?” Michael asked, not entirely sure why Crowley bothered with human activity like drinking. Especially when it dulled one's senses. 

“Maybe, but it’s also a numbing agent,” Crowley replied. “And right now everything hurts.” 

“What on earth do you mean?” 

“I accidentally called Aziraphale ‘Angel’ like I used to,” Crowley said slumping forward in the chair. 

“And I take it he heard you?” She said with a sigh. This mess would not be fixed by fudging some reports. She wondered idly if she should try the wine. After all, they served wine in churches so it couldn’t be a sin. “Because you haven’t listened to my advice to stay away?”

“Yep.” Crowley sniffed and shifted again, this time practically laying down in his seat. “And do you know what else?” 

“I’m sure you’ll tell me.” 

“Apparently, he’s the only demon, in all nine circles of hell, literally the only one, who doesn’t remember heaven.” 

Michael froze. “What?” She whispered, not believing her own ears. 

“He doesn’t remember anything about me, or heaven, or why he’s there and not here. But according to him every other demon does.” Crowley miracled up a second bottle of wine and began drinking heavily from it now. “So, while I was in Barcelona, I tracked down some other demons, lower level, no one important, managed to get them to answer a few questions. And you know what? He was right. Remember little Nithael? Principality? One of yours? The one who liked the narwhals?”

_ Michael was down on earth, helping with the last of the finishing touches before humanity would be created. She floated over the depths of the ocean watching her units below make sure all the animals were in their proper places.  _

_ “Michael!” Raphael cheered joyfully behind her suddenly.  _

_ “”I thought you were supposed to be out near the galactic core,” Michael said by way of greeting.  _

_ “Is that any way to greet your fellow angel? Especially when he’s brought company?” Raphael teased as he and another angel walked up next to her.“Michael, may I introduce, the lovely Principality known as Aziraphale,” Raphael said with a proud smile. Aziraphale's face blushed a bright shade of red, she’d heard Raphael wax on and on about that shade of red.  _

_ “Aziraphale,” Michael said gently. “Raphael has told me so much about you. All good things.”  _

_ Aziraphale’s face turned an even deeper shade of red. “It’s an honor to meet you, Your Grace,” he managed.  _

_ “Please don’t stand on ceremony with Michael, I never do,” Raphael said dismissively.  _

_ “Because some of us have manners,” Aziraphale mumbled. Once the words escaped his mouth though, he froze unsure. Clearly he and Raphael had a similar sense of humor, but as he noted, only one had manners.  _

_ Michael burst out in a sudden fit of laughter, both at the joke and grateful that Raphael had found such a perfect match for himself. Raphael shot Aziraphale a look of mock affront which made Michael laugh even more. “Oh, Raphael, I like him,” she said once her laughter had somewhat died down.  _

_ “You like anyone who can take me down a peg,” Raphael sulked.  _

_ “A little, but only ones who do it from love,” Michael said with a condescending pat on his cheek. “So what brings you both to earth?”  _

_ “I can’t visit a coworker?” Raphael said with a smirk.  _

_ “You can, you just usually don’t.”  _

_ “Angel here was accusing me of putting all the funny animals in Australia,” Raphael said. “And I wanted to show him some of the creatures of the deep.”  _

_ “You wanted to stretch your wings?”  _

_ “And show Aziraphale where he’ll be stationed shortly.”  _

_ “Oh that’s right, you’re going to guard the Eastern Gate,” Michael smiled at Aziraphale. “A high honor indeed.”  _

_ “I’m not sure I deserve such an honor,” Aziraphale said shyly.  _

_ “Believe me, you’ve earned it all on your own.” Aziraphale gave her a small, genuine smile.  _

_ At that moment Nithael breached the surface on the back of one of the creatures they had been working on. It looked like what had named whales but it had a horn piercing its forehead.  _

_ Aziraphale watched in wonder. “What is that?” He asked reverently.  _

_ “A narwhal,” Michael said proudly.  _

_ “See Angel, not all the funny ones are in Australia.”  _

Michael’s heart ached. She could only nod. 

“It’s funny because now they’ve got a horn of their own, right out of the middle of their forehead. They remember why they went to Lucifer’s side. They remember working with the narwhals. They remember it  _ all _ .” Crowley leveled her with a flat look, it wasn’t quite accusatory, but it was close. Micheal knew any other angel on the council would not be granted the same courtesy. “And every other demon I kidnapped said the same thing. Each and every one.” 

“Crowley, they’re demons, they lie,” Michael replied, her voice tight with emotion. “I know it’s hard to hear but probably even Aziraphale lies to you.” 

“And Nithael, trapped in a sigil where they couldn’t lie?” 

“Crowley,” Michael whispered softly. She shook her head sadly. She didn’t want to believe him. But Crowley could be thorough when he put his mind to it. But the only comfort she had had over these years was the knowledge her fallen partner hadn’t reached out was because they couldn’t remember her anymore (not that she was sure she wanted him to reach out) but here was Crowley, ripping it away. “Crowley what does that even mean?” 

“It means the rest of the council, Her servants, did something far worse to Aziraphale than She did to the Angels who actually rebelled.” Crowley’s voice was a mixture of anger and sadness. 

A stray, rebellious tear fell down Michael’s cheek. Crowley handed her a handkerchief before she could even register what had happened. “Thank you,” she said with a small smile. “But I’m not sure I deserve your comfort.” 

Crowley sighed. “You were right, you didn't need to willingly put your wings on the chopping block and I see that now. I’m sorry for anything I said out of anger back then.” 

“There’s nothing to forgive. If there’s anything I can do to make it up to you,” she shook her head, knowing it would never be enough. “I’ll do it.” 

“You don’t have to do anything, but it’s funny, I do actually need a favor, but only if you’re willing.”

“What is it?” 

“I need the report on Aziraphale’s fall. I’ve never seen it. I wasn’t at his trial. The file had been sealed long before I thought I’d be able to look at it without doing something dangerous to myself or others. All I know is that he gave away his sword, but I want to know who he gave it to and why. And, I want to know why Gabriel felt the only suitable punishment for Aziraphale was to fall.” 

“Crowley, you know we’re forbidden from discussing individual falls now,” Michael rested her forehead in her hand. “I’ve never even seen the full file.” 

“And that’s why I’m asking for the file, because I know I can’t ask you.” 

“Even if I were to get it for you, it would take time, and we’d have to be careful to not draw suspicion from others.” 

Crowley leaned forward in his chair, close to her face. “How long are we talking?” 

Michael quickly ran the figures and the variables in her head. “Safely? Centuries at least.” 

“But you can do it?” 

“I can. I will.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I really am loving your response to this story! I'm glad you all are liking it. 
> 
> I really love when on any of my fics I get "I'm not usually into this AU, but..." Because to be perfectly honest when I first got into Good Omens I never saw myself writing: Ineffable Dads, Crowley!Raphael, or Reverse Omens and well. Here I am. 
> 
> Thanks for all the comments, kudos, and bookmarks! If you wanna be friends or ask questions about my story please check out my tumblr yarsian.tumblr.com


	3. Blame is Better to Give

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Crowley and Aziraphale reunite during the first Crusade. Apologies and explanations are offered.

Chapter 3- Blame is better to give than receive 

Crowley gave Aziraphale a little over a century of peace before he began to look for him. It wasn’t the most diligent search he’d ever conducted. But he was also willing to give Aziraphale more time to feel whatever he wanted to feel before he reached out again. Then the Pope had to go call a Crusade. It would later be known as the first crusade, and Crowley followed the armies, because, of course, those were his orders. 

And with a series of wars as chaotic as the Crusades, he didn’t have time to look for Aziraphale. Crowley sat on the banks of the river Jordan trying to just have a moment away from the fighting. Yes, he was trying to keep casualties and violence down to a minimum if he could, but humans could be so stubborn and he didn’t like messing with their minds beyond the occasional memory wipe if they caught him with his wings out or in the process of making himself invisible. 

But this war, he swore he was gonna take a mission to Antarctica so he could get away from this bloodshed with all the same players, more or less, that he kept being assigned a role in. He stripped down to his small clothes and then dove into the river. He kept his head under water for a bit longer than was strictly possible for humans, but he wanted to just have some peace and quiet. His senses felt dulled to the point of sanity under the water, and he began to go comfortably numb from the lack of sensory input. 

A shadow formed between him and the sun and Crowley could tell he was being watched. After he was fairly sure whoever was looking at him wouldn’t immediately shoot him with a bow and arrow, he rose out of the water.

Crowley blinked several times, not quite believing his eyes. “Aziraphale?” The sun shone around him and for a moment Crowley thought he might have been back in heaven and the past millennia had been a horrible nightmare. 

“Mind if I join you?” Aziraphale asked with a shy smile. He was wearing distinctly European wear. He’d gone back to Italy, it seemed from the fashion he was wearing, as usual, beautiful blacks and blues. 

“Only if you want,” Crowley said, trying to keep himself calm. 

In a flash Aziraphale had also stripped down to his under things and jumped into the water as well. He swam up to Crowley tentatively. “You’ve been looking for me,” Aziraphale began, it wasn’t harsh or accusatory, just a fact. 

“Just to make sure you’re alright,” Crowley said quickly, his legs kicked frantically under the surface of the water, which was a perfect outlet for his nervous energy. “I wasn’t, I mean- I wouldn’t, not without your-” 

Aziraphale placed a finger over his lips. “I know,” Aziraphale said with a sad smile. “I know you wouldn’t reach out until I did, so here I am. Besides, I always find you at these tragedies.” 

“Can I try to explain?” Crowley asked quickly, still not quite believing Aziraphale was here and trying to take advantage of the situation. “Why I can’t talk about things?” 

Aziraphale looked at him with wide eyes. “I’m,” he swallowed. “I’m surprised you’re offering. Given why we’ve spent the past few centuries apart.” 

“It’s not a perfect explanation,” Crowley admitted squinting a bit in the sun. 

“I’ll take whatever you can tell me,” Aziraphale said quietly. 

Crowley made them unnoticeable. “This conversation needs privacy,” Crowley explained, he maneuvered himself a bit closer to the eastern bank, just so he didn’t have to keep treading water. Aziraphale followed, placing himself closer to the bank so he could also stand without struggling. Aziraphale only hummed in agreement. 

“I-I can’t tell you everything, I’m just gonna put that out there now. Some of it, I don’t know the answers to and I’ll be honest when it's that. There’s other things I’m forbidden to talk about, and not in a ‘shouldn’t’ way like I’m ‘forbidden’ from swearing or drinking til I’m drunk.” He was watching Aziraphale’s face very carefully. “In a ‘the council has put in a block on every angel where we cannot freely discuss how or why any specific angel fell' sort of way. We can literally only talk about it in the abstract.”

“That sounds like something my side should be doing,” Aziraphale said with a frown. 

“Tell me about it,” Crowley agreed, his voice doing nothing to hide his contempt. “There is a way around that however!” 

“Oh?” Aziraphale said, his eyes were glowing hopefully, but his general expression was still cautious.

“I can’t freely discuss, but I can answer ‘yes’ and ‘no’ questions. Literally with only a yes or no, but I can do it,” Crowley explained with a proud smile. “Did lots of tests to figure that out.” 

“I-I’m flattered,” Aziraphale said, his shy expression was so achingly familiar. “So, so you’ll really answer my questions?” 

“Yes,” Crowley said with a sincere expression. “As much as I’m able.” 

“You knew me before I fell?” 

“Yes,” Crowley said with a nod. “Though I imagine you’ve figured that out already.” 

Aziraphale nodded. “How well did you know me?”

“Biblically,” Crowley replied with a raise of his eyebrows and a small smirk. “Heaven doesn’t actually frown on it unless it’s done outside of Love,” Crowley said with a shrug. “You know as well as I do that humans can develop moral quirks at the drop of a hat.” 

“We were in love?” Aziraphale seemed excited at the prospect. 

“So much. So very, very much,” Crowley said with a sad smile. 

“I-I can’t remember any of that.” Aziraphale frowned. He looked at Crowley’s face carefully. “And I can’t imagine how much this has hurt you.” 

“Knowing where you’ve been, working with you,” Crowley explained with a sigh. “At least I knew you where you were and that you were relatively safe. And that _ had _ to be enough.” 

Aziraphale’s face suddenly became quite concerned. “I know some couples in heaven, and some below, they have children. Did we-?” 

“No, no, no children,” Crowley said with a sad smile of his own. “We hadn’t publicly professed our love but we were set to, and in heaven you’re not supposed to have kids before then in heaven’s rules so-” 

“And that means what in non heavenly terms?”

“Hmm,” Crowley thought for a moment, biting his lip in thought. “We were betrothed but we hadn’t put out the Banns, would be the closest equivalent.” 

“Ah,” Aziraphale stepped toward Crowley, the water resting just below his chin. “I don’t remember us, but, after our little spat, I realized it was probably a situation like this and felt ashamed. I admit, it was a bit obvious in hindsight, once I cooled off.” 

Crowley shook his head. “There’s nothing for you to feel ashamed about,” Crowley said gently. “I could have been more forthcoming, or tried to be.” He lowered his voice to a whisper, he could barely be heard over the current. “In heaven we’re told none of you remember and to remind you of your previous existence causes you physical and spiritual anguish.” 

“I know that’s not true for other demons,” Aziraphale admitted. “But I’ve researched this some myself, and apparently besides falling later than other demons, there were other irregularities in my fall.” 

“Yes,” Crowley said feeling choked slightly. 

“Oh!” Aziraphale’s eyes lit in understanding. “This is what you mean when you say you can only say Yes or No.” Crowley nodded. “So my fall was irregular,” he said to himself. “Do you know if me remembering things causes me pain?” 

“No.” Crowley took a breath and rubbed his neck. “I mean, seeing me clearly doesn’t cause you pain so you’ve at least got that going for you.” He paused. “Do you remember anything? I know last time we saw each other you said you didn’t, but has anything come to you since?” 

Aziraphale closed his eyes and concentrated. He was completely still for over a minute. Then Aziraphale was splashing the water around angrily, accidentally submerging Crowley’s head. “Nothing,” he said with a growl. 

“I’m sorry,” Crowley said he reached out to put a friendly hand on Aziraphale’s shoulder but he froze halfway. His touch may not be wanted. “If-If there was a way I could help you, I’d do it. I am doing it, in fact.” Aziraphale turned his face back toward Crowley, his pained expression causing Crowley’s heart to surge forward. “I-I wasn’t there, when you were sentenced to fall, but-but I’m working on getting the file, so then I can tell you anything you want to know. Or try to, anyway.” 

“Crowley,” Aziraphale said with a sigh. “You don’t have-” 

“It is quite literally the least I could do,” Crowley interrupted with a shrug. And he meant it, he knew he had to try to make this right for Aziraphale, someway, somehow. 

Crowley was suddenly tackled back into the deeper part of the river. His head was under the water and then he felt Aziraphale’s lips on his. Their faces pressed together awkwardly, it was clear Aziraphale did not remember how to kiss, but was determined to figure it out all over again. Crowley clung to Aziraphale, guiding him with gentle hands on his cheeks, slotting them together perfectly. The kiss ached with familiarity for Crowley. Aziraphale was the same, his lips were still as soft as ever, but his teeth were sharper, and his mouth was still filled with overwhelming heat, but instead of familiar warmth and sun there was fire and smoke. But Crowley didn’t care because Aziraphale was his again and even if he had changed he would change with him, Crowley silently promised. Aziraphale broke away first, but that seemed more to do with the fact that the current was pulling him upward than lack of enthusiasm. 

Crowley still felt like he was drowning, his emotions running in every direction. Grateful Aziraphale was choosing him again. Nervous that so much could go wrong. And love, so much love and hurt he couldn’t make heads or tails of it. But just as the current was pulling Aziraphale upward, Crowley felt himself pulled down. The river may not have been that deep but Crowley couldn’t reach the surface. 

Just as he thought he was thoroughly overwhelmed he felt himself being pulled upward. As he breached the surface, Crowley gasped into Aziraphale’s firm embrace. 

_ As an Archangel, Raphael had an innate sense of which angels reported to him. The Principality observing the newly created Earth was called Aziraphale. _

_ Aziraphale was sitting by himself at the edge of the current space of heaven (heaven was still in its fluffy cloud phase and not the corporate America version it would later become) which was an interesting change of pace. So many angels were social creatures, flitting from choir, to task, to play, to the great hall surrounded with companions. This was different. _

_ Raphael liked different. _

_ “Beautiful isn’t it?” Raphael began, coming up to stand beside Aziraphale. _

_ “It really is,” Aziraphale said, his gaze not moving an inch. “I can’t seem to take my eyes off of it. The humans will be lucky to live there.” _

_ “Absolutely, She’s got lots of great stuff planned for them,” Raphael said with a small smile. _

_ “I can’t wait to see it all. It’ll all be so exciting.” _

_ “Mind if I join you?” Raphael asked with a smile. _

_ “No, not at all,” Aziraphale said turning back toward him with a gentle smile. However, once he saw Raphael his eyebrows shot into his hair. “Oh, Raphael, Your Grace, I had no idea I was talking to you,- I.” _

_ Raphael took a seat next to Aziraphale. “It’s no trouble at all,” he said breezily. “I actually rather enjoyed the chance for a casual conversation for a change.” He leaned closer to Aziraphale conspiratorially. “I get tired of the titles and pomp and circumstance. Drives some of the other Archangels mad.” Raphael chuckled. “They take themselves a bit too seriously sometimes.” _

_ “I wouldn’t know,” Aziraphale admitted. “You’re the only Archangel who’s talked to me.” Aziraphale leaned closer to Raphael, mirroring his posture. “Though, I do suppose that rather proves your point.” _

_ Raphael let out a bark of laughter. Aziraphale let out a small nervous giggle in return. “Yes, yes exactly, that is my point precisely, thank you,” Raphael said, his shoulder brushing Aziraphale’s gently. Aziraphale was blushing, which Raphael had to admit was a rather fetching look on him. “If it’s not rude of me to ask,” Raphael said, “What are you doing over here all alone?” _

_ Aziraphale shrugged. “God made me a little shy, I suppose,” he said, turning his face back toward the Earth. “That and many of my friends have gone and fallen in love.” _

_ Raphael hummed in commiseration. God had recently decided that, as a test run for humans, angels could fall in love and have children with other angels. Many angels had already found partners and were quite happy. Some members of the council were unhappy with decreased efficiency in angelic activity. But those were largely members who hadn’t fallen in love themselves. Even Michael had shown up late to a council meeting, her usually perfect hair looking slightly rumpled. That had given Raphael a shock. “You’ve not been lucky yet?” _

_ “No, not yet,” Aziraphale said with a small smile. “But I have faith I’ll find love eventually.” Aziraphale turned back toward Raphael. “You?” _

_ “Not yet, but I’m optimistic,” Raphael said with a small laugh. _

_ “That’s surprising.” _

_ “Oh?” Crowley said with a small smile. “Why’s that?” _

_ Aziraphale froze. His face was turning that lovely shade of pink again. “Err, well, I- That is, clearly you’re quite attractive,” he managed to squeak out the last part. _

_ “That’s funny, I was thinking the same thing about you,” Raphael said scooting closer still to the other Angel, who had turned a brighter red. “H-” _

_ A runner angel approached them. “Raphael, you’re needed at a council meeting.” _

_ Raphael sighed and turned back toward Aziraphale. “I’m sorry, duty calls.” He gave him a small smile. “Lovely talking to you.” Raphael began to stand. _

_ “Wait,” Aziraphale said, then he winced at his volume. “Find me again later, please?” _

_ Raphael shot him a bright grin. “If you like.” _

_ “I would. Very much so.” _

_ “Glad to hear it.” _

Aziraphale had him pinned to the river bank, their legs tangled together on a fine rug that had Aziraphale had insisted on laying down (“I may be a demon but we’re not doing this in the dirt, Crowley. I have standards.”). They exchanged lazy kisses in the afternoon sun. It was the closest to true paradise Crowley had been in for thousands of years, and they hadn’t even removed their small clothes. Their emotions were running high on a mixture of love, sadness and fear of the unknown. 

“Did you miss this?” Aziraphale asked quietly as he rubbed his nose against Crowley’s. 

“I missed _ you _ ,” Crowley said simply. He ran his hands over Aziraphale’s back. Closer up Crowley could see and feel burns on his back in addition to the long, jagged scar that ran from the base of his skull to his tailbone. They didn’t cause Aziraphale additional pain when Crowley’s hands slipped over them (Crowley had asked). “But, I found myself missing _ this _ you when you were gone.” Aziraphale shifted to lay on his side, Crowley immediately wrapped himself around Aziraphale, ducking his head under his chin. “I dunno, in a lot of ways you haven’t changed. But in other ways you have.” 

“Like what?” 

“Well, for one, you seem more relaxed as a demon.” 

Aziraphale hummed happily. “From our conversations over the years dear, I think that may be because while they can be absolute wankers, my superiors don’t do much in the way of day to day supervision.” 

“How lucky for you,” Crowley said, taking one of Aziraphale’s hands and lacing their fingers together. “I’m only technically only supposed to have one superior, but I’ve ended up with three more, on a good day.” 

“I figured you were important up there,” Aziraphale said with a quiet voice. “Don’t worry, I won’t tell anyone I figured it out.” 

“I trust you,” Crowley said, because it was the only thing he knew to be true any more. He clung to Aziraphale more tightly than before. 

“Can I ask you another question?” 

“You can ask me all the questions you want,” Crowley sighed contentedly as he shut his eyes. “Anytime.” 

Aziraphale tilted and kissed the top of Crowley’s head. “Thank you,” he said quietly.

“Your question?”

“Why are you on Earth?” Azriaphale asked. “You’re important, clearly, you don’t have to be here. Did you know I was here?” 

Crowley buried himself further in Aziraphale’s neck. “I don’t know if I’ll be able to answer that, but I’ll try.” He cleared his throat. “After” Crowley tried to say the word ‘your,’ but his vocal chords wouldn’t cooperate. “After the angel previously stationed on earth,” Crowley managed. “Fell, a replacement was required. I could barely look at other members of the council without thinking some unholy thoughts because of” he felt himself choking again. “Reasons and so volunteered to take their place. Which suited them fine.” 

“I was that angel?” Aziraphale said maneuvering so he could look at Crowley, his blue eyes practically piercing into Crowley’s soul, but in a way Crowley found he was completely at peace with. “I was stationed on Earth?” 

Crowley’s throat was on fire, but he managed to squeak out a, “Yes.” He took a deep breath and sat up angrily, rubbing at his throat. It had begun to burn.

Aziraphale sat up too, rubbing Crowley’s back soothingly with a hand. “You don’t have to answer if it causes you pain,” Aziraphale said gently. 

Crowley shook his head. “No, no, I can do it,” he said angrily. He cleared his throat. “Not painful, per se,” he lied, “just mild choking and incredibly frustrating.” He dragged his fingers through his hair. “You asked something else? I don’t think I’ve answered everything yet. ” 

“Oh, yes,” Aziraphale said, not moving his hand from Crowley’s back. “I mean, given everything, did you take this posting because you knew I was stationed on Earth?” 

Crowley shook his head. “No, no that caught me completely off guard. Been here a few dozen centuries before you found me.” He smiled at Aziraphale. “Surely you remember what a fool I made of myself back in Egypt.” 

Aziraphale chuckled and rested his forehead against Crowley’s. “At the time I just thought you didn’t like the idea of conversing with a demon. But you did share your wine.” 

“I’ve never been able to deny you anything.” Crowley’s eyes drifted shut as he kissed Aziraphale again. He lifted a hand to cup Aziraphale’s face, holding him in place as he nipped at Aziraphale’s lower lip. 

Aziraphale’s hands wandered down Crowley’s side and his thumb began to caress Crowley’s hipbone, just dipping under the edge of the last protection against nudity. “Anything?” Aziraphale whispered as his own kisses trailed over Crowley’s jaw. “Anything at all.” His hand dipped lower, closer to Crowley’s effort, almost in a taunt. “Even this.” 

Crowley let out a small moan. “Especially this,” Crowley said, spreading his legs in a way that was truly anything but angelic. Aziraphale began biting and sucking in turns, making a mark appear on Crowley’s collar bone. Crowley would absolutely not miracle it away. He never had before, no reason to stop now. He threaded his fingers into Aziraphale’s silver curls, holding him in place. “Aziraphale.” 

“Crowley,” Aziraphale hummed, his hand now circling around Crowley’s cock. “I’m surprised you have one of these.” He stroked Crowley’s length, causing his hips to buck forward. “Doesn’t seem like something your lot would allow.” 

Crowley was helpless to do anything other than to rut into Aziraphale’s hand as he clung desperately to his shoulders. “Maybe not exactly, but when you’re travelling in close quarters with soldiers, there’s-” Aziraphale slid his thumb over the slit on the head of his effort, wringing a low groan out of him. “Oh fuck they don’t care just don’t stop.” 

Aziraphale laughed into Crowley’s neck as he pushed him onto his back, never breaking his rhythm. “I want you,” he panted as he began to grind his own hips into Crowley’s thigh. Crowley helped him push down Crowley’s small clothes, freeing his cock from their confines. Soon they were both completely naked, Aziraphale between Crowley’s spread thighs. 

“Wait-wait, I should tell you my name, if we’re doing this” Crowley said suddenly and Aziraphale’s hand stilled. “My name, my real name, is R-” Crowley’s throat closed. “R-” His throat was on fire now as he tried to force the sound out. He hissed in frustration and tried one last time. “I can’t tell you my name,” Crowley said tears pricking the corner of his eyes. “What the fuck.” He tried a few more times causing his throat to burn more with each attempt. 

“Do we need to stop?” Aziraphale asked, his hand loosening as he pulled himself back to look Crowley in the eye. 

“I-I don’t,” Crowley didn’t want to, but both his effort and Azriaphale’s have rather lost interest. Crowley let out a long frustrated groan. “Fuck everything.” 

Aziraphale hummed in agreement. “It’s been rather an emotional day already,” Aziraphale said into Crowley’s temple. “Sex would have just made it even more of a run away situation.” 

“Yeah, but I’d have maybe felt a little less angry,” Crowley frowned. “They took my name from me,” he whispered in disbelief. He shook his head and cuddled in closer to Aziraphale. 

“You’d almost think you were the demon and I the angel.” 

“Yeah, you’d think, no offense” Crowley said looking up at Aziraphale’s face. “Will you be here in the Levant for long?” 

“Until I get other orders or you leave,” Aziraphale answered. “So we should have time to come back out here and try this again.” Aziraphale handed Crowley some of his things haphazardly as they began to dress.

“Why would we have to come back out here to make love?” Crowley asked confused. “I’ve got a tent, you’ve probably got a room.” 

“You may see it as you making love to the love of your existence in the holy land,” Aziraphale rolled his eyes. “But language is a funny thing Crowley. Because I could easily say a demon fucked an angel on the banks of the very river Jesus was baptized in.”

“Get you a big commendation in Hell I imagine?” Crowley said trying very hard to not think about the fact Aziraphale was right. 

“It would, but I’ll file it away like I do all of our encounters,” Aziraphale said with a gentle press of his lips to Crowley’s shoulder. “For my own pleasure and nothing more.” 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> In this chapter we earn the M rating with some sexy times! I'm sorry this chapter is shorter, I had originally written chapters 1-4 all in one large chapter and split it up after I wrote it where breaks made sense to me and my beta. Don't worry, the next chapter is longer and contains some key scenes and is already written. Just holding it back to keep my updates on a semi regular schedule. 
> 
> In fact I'm about 1/3rd of the way through chapter 6 with everything through the end of the fic sketched out. 
> 
> I appreciate your comments, kudos, bookmarks and everything. They've been helping me through a rough work situation. :)


	4. Choose from Phantom Fears or Kindness That Can Kill

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Crowley begins pressing for Answers and remembers the last time he fought.

Chapter 4 From Phantom Fears or Kindness that Can Kill

  


Crowley walked into the council chambers just before Uriel took attendance for the meeting. Michael had been able to give him enough of a heads up regarding this meeting that he’d actually managed to attend it. It was his first since… had it really been the first rumblings of the Great Schism? He supposed it was. For once a month meetings they’d been managing a poor job of keeping him informed. He was supposed to be hand delivered notice of every meeting by a runner angel. He shook his head and decided to worry about that later. He had a plan he needed to stick to for now. 

“Raphael?” Gabriel asked looking shaken and surprised at his presence. “What brings you here?” 

“It’s on the agenda,” Crowley said with an ‘angelic’ smile and a flash of his golden eyes. 

Gabriel couldn’t respond as Uriel had begun taking attendance. And one did not interrupt Uriel if one knew better. 

“Welcome to today’s Meeting,” Michael began as soon as Uriel had finished, not leaving a moment for any other angel to speak,less they pick a fight with her. “Today’s agenda is short. We have the usual high number of miracle reports to review and approve, Blessing Bestowals, daily totals, and finally, Raphael wishes to report to the council.” 

“Raphael, you don’t need to report to the council,” Gabriel said with a forced laugh and a shrug. “We know you have duties on Earth, and we admire that you take them so seriously and spend so much time down there. So there’s no need to come here.” 

“Oh it’s no trouble at all,” Crowley said with casual shrug of his own as he slouched back in his chair. “I had some things I thought deserved the _ entire _ council’s attention.” His smile was still gentle and unassuming, but there was an edge in his eyes as he stared directly at Gabriel. 

“Well, if no one objects, why don’t we take care of Raphael first?” Gabriel said clapping his hands together and looking away first. “Since it’s the only anomaly on the agenda?” 

“I’ve no objection,” Michael replied, her tone neutral enough though her voice was clipped. “All in favor?” She asked wrestling back her control of the agenda. Gabriel shot her a near imperceptible glare, but Crowley knew Gabriel wouldn’t be so foolish as to fight Michael. 

At Michael’s nod, Crowley stood up and walked to the center of the room, standing before the council. “I’ve come to report on an interesting phenomenon cropping up amongst the humans. They’ve taken notice of us.” 

Metatron let out a low chuckle, “Well, of course they have, we do not need to hide ourselves completely. At least not in this day and age.” 

“Humanity should know of their protectors in heaven,” Sandalphon said simply. “It affirms their faith in Her.” 

“Of course, of course.” Crowley nodded. “Notice is fine, but they’ve begun praying to us too, not in a polytheistic sense, of course, but for intercession, much like they do the saints.” 

“And we’re happy to do that for them,” Gabriel said with a confused shrug. Gabriel studied his face carefully. “Hardly needs this level of attention though, Raphael.” He shrugged. “They’re _ just _human prayers, nothing more. Those are handled in an appropriate manner by the proper angels.” 

Crowley bit his tongue. He had a point he was going to make and he would not rise to Gabriel’s bait. “But they pray to specific angels, they use our names. They know to pray to Gabriel, Michael, R-lots of the big names.” 

“Raphael, even I’m failing to see your point,” Uriel finally spoke up. “This is all perfectly acceptable through divine law, Angelic Decree 77.3 sub section 5, and council decrees 8, 12, and 34 to name just a sample of permissive laws.” 

“My point is when I perform a miracle, and a human wishes to thank me, as they do sometimes, I cannot give them my name so they can thank me properly,” Crowley explained, finally letting the briefest hint of anger slip through. “I can’t tell them I’m R-” His throat clenched in a way he was becoming all too familiar with. “See my point?” 

Gabriel shifted in his seat ever so slightly. If Crowley hadn’t been looking for it, he wouldn’t have even seen it. “Raphael, we agreed that when you took over the permanent position on earth, that in order to hide the fact we had stationed an Archangel of Her Council in Heaven down there you should hide your name.” 

“I remember. I _ was _ there. Do _ you _ remember?” Crowley crossed his arms over his chest and cocked his hip to the side, affecting a casual posture to hide the sharpness in his voice. 

Gabriel took a deep breath and smiled at him with absolutely no sincerity. “Of course I do.” 

“Good,” Crowley said his smile just a fraction too wide, as he stared directly back at Gabriel. “Because maybe you can help me with something. I remember agreeing to using a different name down on Earth in the general sense. What I don’t remember is agreeing to not being able to say my true name at all.” His gaze shifted to the rest of the council. “And that’s what’s happened. I can’t say R-” he let his throat burn again. “Ra---” Crowley wheezed, letting the rest of them here his struggle. “See? Can’t even say it as an example, here amongst the safety of my friends and peers in council chambers.” 

“The council did not agree to that,” Uriel said immediately, turning to the rest of the council. “Who authorized this?” 

“Wish I knew,” Crowley said trying to hide his smirk as he rubbed his now painful throat. 

“Have a seat,” Micheal said gently, motioning back to his chair next to her. “I too would like to know why Raphael has been stripped of the right to use his name and who stripped him of that.” 

As Crowley took his seat Micheal reached over and placed a hand on his throat. He felt her warm familiar energy as his throat healed. “Thank you,” he whispered. 

_ Raphael stumbled forward, tripping over a fallen marble column. He was trying to get to the council chambers, it’s where he belonged now that the first attack seemed over. The attack. They’d been attacked, from within their own ranks. He shook some debris out of his hair. It had caught them completely off guard. Which, well, was probably the idea. _

_ A line of soldiers began to run past him and he tensed involuntarily and prepared to attack. It registered to him that they still had white wings, so still on their side. Sides. There hadn’t been sides before. _

_ At the end of the line he saw a familiar face. “Aziraphale.” He tackled the angel into a tight embrace, his six wings encircling Aziraphale’s form completely. _

_ Aziraphale’s arms were wrapped around his neck. “Raphael,” he whispered, pressing his forehead against Raphael’s own. “Oh, Raphael, I hadn’t seen you and I knew you and Morning Star were friends, but I knew you were good but, I hadn’t seen you and I was worried and-” Aziraphale frowned and pulled back one of his hands, it was covered in gold liquid, blood. “My dear, you’re hurt.” _

_ “I hadn’t noticed,” Raphael lied, no reason to worry Aziraphale when he’d be fine eventually. _

_ Aziraphale shook his head. “I can’t make any sense of this,” he admitted softly. _

_ “I know, I know,” Raphael said pressing his lips against Aziraphale’s forehead. “We don’t have a full head count yet, I know.” He wrapped his arms tighter around Aziraphale. “I knew you wouldn’t fall, you’re too good, far too good, but there are angels who- They’ve- They’re gone. Just gone.” Tears fell from Raphael’s eyes. _

_ “I know, I know,” Aziraphale said, crying too. “I saw.” They held each other a moment longer. “I have to get back with the others, soon.” _

_ “And I have to get to the council, whatever’s left of it anyway,” Raphael lowered his wings though he didn’t let go just yet. “Please come back to me, please.” _

_ Aziraphale nodded. “I will.” Aziraphale took a step back. “Of course I will. I love you.” _

_ Raphael froze as a smile tugged at the corners of his mouth. “Aziraphale.” _

_ Aziraphale was blushing. “I just- I was worried I’d lost you or that one of us would be gone and I hadn’t told you how I feel. But now I have.” _

_ “Is it selfish of me to hope this is well beyond your heavenly duty to love all creatures?” _

_ “I don’t know, but I do,” Aziraphale said with a smile. “I love you, so completely.” _

_ “I love you too,” Raphael said with a smile. “And I’m so glad you’re alright.” He pulled Aziraphale close for one last kiss to his lips. He brought one of his own wings forward and plucked one of the primaries, pushing it into Aziraphale’s hands. “You can use this to get into my chambers at any time. If yours are destroyed, or you just want some quiet or some company, they’re yours to use. What’s mine is yours.” _

_ Aziraphale gave him one of the most beautiful smiles in all of creation, it was certainly the brightest thing Raphael has seen on this dark day. “I’ll take you up on that.” And with that he took off to rejoin his regiment. _

_ Raphael found himself navigating the rubble strewn hallways just a little easier after that. _

_ Closer to the council chambers he saw another familiar face lying on the ground, her red hair strewn wildly about her, gold dripped from her nose and mouth and from various wounds across her body. “Michael!” he shouted as he knelt down beside her. He cupped her face gently, and focused. She was still alive, and still an angel, and really that was the best case scenario, though she was very injured and very weak. He focused some of his heavenly gift into Michael, healing the some of the worst injuries. “Stay with me Michael, stay with me.” _

_ Micheal’s eyes fluttered open. “R-Raphael?” she whispered. _

_ “It’s me, It’s me.” Raphael held her down as she tried to move. “You’re too injured.” He concentrated more as the hand not on her face took one of hers. “Just stay still for a little bit longer.” Michael stopped struggling, but she kept her eyes on him. “That’s it, that’s it, just let me heal the worst of it.” _

_ “Raphael.” She squeezed his hand tightly with both of hers. “I should be protecting you, you’re hurt too.” _

_ Raphael laughed lightly. “What kind of sibling would I be if I just left you here?” _

_ Michael closed her eyes as the last of her worst injuries were healed. Raphael helped her sit up slowly, resting her back on a mostly intact wall. “It was L-” Her eyes welled up with tears, not able to bare saying his name. “Morning Star,” she whispered. “He was looking for you and I.” _

_ “What?” Raphael whispered back. “Why?” _

_ “You’ve always had questions of your own,” Michael explained softly. “And he considered you a friend.” She looked up at Raphael softly. “You’d even spoken with him about some of his problems with-- well your questions.” _

_ Raphael shifted uncomfortably. He did have questions about how things were being run lately. About how things were shaping up. But he’d missed some of Lucifer’s parties. Had _ that _ been what kept him from getting caught up in all this? The fact that Aziraphale hadn’t been invited and so Raphael hadn’t felt like going after all? Was reality that fragile, that a simple shuffling of meetings and coincidences decided his fate? _

_ Raphael closed his eyes and sent a silent thank you to God for allowing his reality to form the way it had. He could easily have found himself sauntering down a different path if the cards had been shuffled differently. _

_ Raphael turned his thoughts away from that hellish thought and back to Michael. “But why _ you _ ?” He asked, his face lined with confusion. Michael was good, strict and at times unyielding, but good at her core. Kind and merciful when it was needed. That’s why they were close, they had the same goals at the end of the day. “You’d never follow him. You love humanity. You love Her.” _

_ “But I loved him,” Michael said softly, tears flowing freely from her eyes. Raphael regarded her carefully. He knew both Morning Star and Michael had found partners. Morning Star had mentioned it to him in passing one day, as they worked out in the cosmos, that he’d found someone and that perhaps that wasn’t a terrible decision by Her. Michael though, she had often shown up to meetings with a satisfied smile, and an over all more relaxed feeling. Love had suited her, though you could hardly tell if you didn’t know her. He just never imagined that they’d been together. They had not made any public declarations or requests. Raphael thought darkly that perhaps it was for the best, given what all had happened now. _

_ “I loved him and I thought we were happy and he-” She shook her head. “It wasn’t enough for him. _ I _ wasn’t enough for him.” _

_ “You’re better than him,” Raphael said easily, because he believed it. “And he is a fool.” _

_ “He didn’t even ask me to go with him, he just assumed. Not that I’d have gone, of course,” she said with a shake of her head. “He just sent a dozen or so angels who I didn’t even recognize, and they were told to bring me to Morning Star. Whether or not I wanted to come, apparently.” _

_ “And they did this?” _

_ “Yes, they were ready to use swords, fists, and other dark magic to deliver me to Morning Star,” Michael said with a distant look. “But that problem doesn’t exist any more.” _

_ Raphael placed a brotherly kiss on her forehead. “I’m glad you’re here.” _

_ Michael allowed her eyes to close and he felt her relax for a moment. “We should head to the council chambers, start recovery efforts, get an idea of our remaining numbers.” _

_ Raphael stood first and offered Michael a hand. She leaned on him more than she’d ever admit aloud as they slowly made their way to the council chambers. _

_ The door to the chambers was closed. “Stay back,” he hissed, not knowing who or what would be on the other side. _

_ “Honestly, I’m just as injured as you are at this point,” Michael said with a roll of her eyes. They stood side by side, their corporations cracking at the edges with power as their true forms began to bleed into this reality. “Ready?” Raphael nodded. And the door was open. _

Gabriel, Metatron, and Sandalphon all exchanged the briefest of glances. Crowley couldn’t help but feel smug, cornering them like this in front of Uriel. No one had true righteous fury like Uriel if someone had violated protocols on their watch. 

“We cannot risk accidents,” Sandalphon replied, the sacrificial lamb of their trio. “If a demon were to trick him or tempt him, or even just be in the vicinity-” 

“The truth of those statements is irrelevant. A vote of the whole council present would still be necessary with a unanimous decision required.” Uriel was leveling him with an angry stare. 

“There was council present,” Metatron explained in his usual superior tone. “The three of us-” 

“Are not enough for a proper quorum.” 

“Enough!” Gabriel said loudly. “We do not have time to discuss every Emergency Decision of Council Present.” 

“The Emergency Decisions of Council Present Provision is meant for just that, emergencies! Not stripping Raphael of the use of his name. Not without his consent,” Michael said, ice dripping through her voice. 

“Michael is right,” Uriel said quickly. 

“There is an agent of the enemy permanently on Earth,” Gabriel insisted, “Aziraphale could be anywhere at any time. Since we cannot track him like we can other demons, needs must.” 

Uriel rocked backward in their chair with a deep frown. “I call for a vote to launch an investigation into the use of Emergency Decisions of Council Present of all Council members. All in favor?” 

There had been a stalemate. But the message to Gabriel had been clear. Crowley was fighting back. And it would not be a quick or quiet fight. 

  


“I got you a present,” Crowley said with a grin as he shifted in his dress. They were in a lovely little cantina on the Coast of the Mediterranean in Castille. News of the “Discoveries” of Christopher Columbus was still the talk of the town, even years later. But they weren’t here to discuss work. Well, not yet anyway. 

“What a coincidence, I have one for you as well,” Aziraphale said with a warm smile and a kiss to his cheek. 

“Oh, you didn’t have to get me anything,” Crowley said with a wave of his hand as he settled into the seat next to Aziraphale, their sides pressed together. 

Aziraphale took Crowley’s left hand and held it between his. “Oh my dear, I wanted to! Besides, I rather hope you like it.” Aziraphale pulled out a small, silver ring. “We don’t need the locals thinking you’re a woman of ill repute.” 

“I-I rather thought a demon wouldn’t care to defend an angel’s honor in that way,” Crowley said, trying to deflect. 

“You’re not just any angel,” Aziraphale said with another, lingering kiss to Crowley’s lips. “Please say you’ll wear it.” 

“Of course I’ll wear it, idiot,” Crowley felt the comfortable, warm metal slide on her finger. He sighed, utterly content. It had been nearly two decades since they’d been able to see each other for any significant amount of time. 

“You know it’s funny,” Aziraphale said quietly. “This conversation feels slightly familiar.” Aziraphale pulled back just enough to look Crowley in the eye. “Have we had it before?” 

“I used to tell you you weren’t just an angel all the time,” Crowley said with a small smile. 

Aziraphale shared his smile. “It’s so strange, I’ll remember something, but most of the time it’s gone whenever I try to remember what I’ve remembered.” 

“Sounds like what happens when I dream,” Crowley said softly, resting his forehead against Aziraphale’s shoulder. “But don’t think you’ve distracted me, angel, I still have my gift for you.” 

“Oh no, a gift, what a nightmare,” Aziraphale said with an eyeroll. “Whatever will I do?” 

“And that_ is _ different,” Crowley said with a laugh. “You were so good at angelic humility one could easily mistake it for being bashful.” He handed Aziraphale the package carefully. 

Aziraphale ripped open the paper wrapped around the package. HIs jaw dropped open. “Oh, my dear,” Aziraphale said, his tone the closest to reverent a Demon could get. It was a first edition of Dante’s _ Divine Comedy _ . Last time they’d truly spent time together Aziraphale had casually mentioned that his superiors had been pleased with the popularity of _ Inferno _ , as compared to _ Purgatorio _ and _ Paradiso _and congratulated him for his efforts. Ever since then Aziraphale had been trying to get a hold of a copy of the whole thing for himself. 

“It’s not signed,” Crowley said downplaying his gift. “I know you said you liked signed texts, but this was the best quality I could find and while I’m not exactly Heaven’s favorite angel, Necromancy is still frowned upon and I don’t really have a taste for it but -” Crowley was cut off with a firm kiss to his lips. 

“It’s perfect,” Aziraphale said once they broke apart. “I’m half tempted to take it upstairs and read the whole thing, cover to cover, right now.”

“What’s the other half of you tempted to do?” Crowley asked with a knowing grin. 

“Take you upstairs to my rooms and show you my appreciation for this,” Aziraphale whispered hotly in his ear. 

They practically ran up the stairs in excitement. The rooms were large and well furnished. “Nice place you got here,” Crowley said with a grin. He sat on the edge of the bed. It was sinfully soft. “Very nice indeed.” 

“That’s one nice thing about being a demon,” Aziraphale said locking the door behind him. “No reason to deny myself anything.” Aziraphale turned away from the door and stared at Crowley hungrily. The kind of hunger that was reserved only for Crowley and the finest of desserts. He stalked over to the bed where Crowley sat. If it were any other demon Crowley may have been afraid, but it was Azriaphale so he just felt... desired. 

“Do your worst,” Crowley said with a raise of his eyebrow. 

“Oh no my dear, I think you deserve my very best.” Aziraphale walked over and nudged his knees apart, causing his dress to ride up onto his thighs. “Only the best for you.” 

_ Raphael sat alone in his chambers in a daze. The initial attack and subsequent striking down of the rebellious angels (now called demons) had left Raphael feeling alone and out of sorts. And what was worst of all he felt like he couldn’t talk about it with anyone. Paranoia was running wild in the upper echelons of Heaven. Gabriel and Metatron were already speaking of new security measures for the sake of safety of the greater heavenly host. Micheal and Raphael were hesitant to act impulsively out of fear and Uriel’s wounds needed more time to heal in spite of Raphael’s miracles. They had not yet replaced the deceased Barachiel nor the Fallen Morning Star. _

_ Raphael was particularly nervous about the proposed safety measures. It’s not that he didn’t still love Her. He did. Very much so. In fact it was probably time for another thank you to God for how it had gone for him personally. But some of the policies Gabriel was proposing, mandatory confession for those who had been formally partnered with one of the fallen, random checks of sins for anyone who had once reported to Morning Star for the foreseeable future, and limited travel to earth for pleasure? Innocent angels would inevitably get hurt. It all seemed not in Her style. At least, not what he hoped was still Her style. _

_ Then, of course, was Raphael’s fear of being on the receiving end of well, any of this. He knew he was not a perfect Angel. Both Michael and Aziraphale had been right, he had been close to many of the fallen. Would they come for him? Would they come for Aziraphale? Michael? His mind was still reeling at that revelation. _

_ There was a knock on his door and Raphael took a defensive position, all six wings ready to fight and a summoned sword in his hands. _

_ “Raphael?” Aziraphale’s voice came through gently. “It’s me, Aziraphale.” He sounded slightly nervous. “I know you said I could come by whenever I wished but if you’re not in or are too busy that’s fine. Probably shouldn’t have come by-“ _

_ Raphael threw the door open, hid his wings, vanished the sword, and tackled poor Aziraphale before he could even register what all he had done. “Of course you can come by, silly angel,” Raphael said with a small, genuine smile. He stepped aside and allowed Aziraphale room to walk inside. “I said so myself didn’t I? What’s mine is yours.” _

_ Aziraphale looked around his chambers in awe. Raphael’s chambers weren’t the biggest or most lavish of the Archangels, but he quite liked them as they were. The white marble walls were fairly standard issue, but he’d allowed for them to have veins of color., greys, golds, even black. He kept what humans would come to call a bed but Michael once commented he’d merely manifested a large white pillow so when he flung himself around dramatically he wouldn’t injure himself. The rest of the room had pillows and other comfort items carefully tucked away so as to maintain the heavenly minimalist aesthetic that was the fashion. He had his standard issue personal desk as well. Red marble and a throne behind it. Raphael had rather mixed feelings about the set up if he were being honest but he wasn’t about to go chucking out the one thing he knew all the council still had in common. At least, not yet anyway. Raphael’s favorite part though was above them. He didn’t have what would later be called a ceiling as such. He kept it open so he could easily see the stars of the Cosmos. It may be pride or vanity to admire them, but he did anyway. _

_ Of course, the ceiling is directly where Aziraphale’s eyes wandered first. “Beautiful,” Aziraphale whispered under his breath. “Simply beautiful.” _

_ Raphael, proud of the stars as he was, was still unused to hearing people compliment them in that way. “You don’t have to flatter me, angel, you’re already in my chambers.” _

_ Aziraphale rolled his eyes and then leveled Raphael with a flat look. “Ha,” Aziraphale said not sounding like a laugh at all. “They’re beautiful and I’d say it anyway.” His gaze wandered back toward the shifting stars above. “You helped Her create them, correct?” _

_ “Some of them,” Raphael said with a nod, his own eyes flicking back and forth between Aziraphale’s face and the stars. _

_ “Can you show me?” Aziraphale looked over at Raphael with a shy smile. “Show me which ones you created? Just one or two?” _

_ Raphael closed the gap between himself and Aziraphale he pressed his front against Aziraphale’s back, one hand gently resting on Aziraphale’s hip, holding him close. He rested his chin on Aziraphale’s shoulder in the pretext of keeping their eye lines as similar as they could be. He pointed to a binary system with his free hand. “That is Alpha Centauri,” Raphael explained. “See, it's really two stars, but from Earth, it’ll only look like one.” _

_ “Why design it like that?” Aziraphale asked, curious. _

_ “Give the humans something fun to discover if they ever find a way to study the stars more closely. That, and sometimes the physics just works out better that way.” Aziraphale hummed in understanding. Raphael pivoted them just slightly. He pointed to another star. “See that little white one? Barely can make out the yellow in it, but it’s there?” Aziraphale nodded. “It’s my latest star, I don’t have a name for it yet. Thought the inspiration for it should get the first crack at it.” _

_ “I’m sure they’ll think of something suitable,” Aziraphale said with a nod, resting his head against Raphaels. _

_ “Well, right now I’m trying to figure out if he’s just playing at being dense or if he’s just being modest,” Raphael said, the hand on his hip giving Aziraphale a playful pinch. _

_ Aziraphale wiggled in his arms. “Tickles,” he mumbled, his face turning that beautiful shade of pink. _

_ “So how bout it?” Raphael pressed on. “What do you want to name the star?” _

_ “I-I really shouldn’t. And you really didn’t have to make a whole star for me.” Aziraphale’s face was getting warmer by the second. Raphael can feel the heat of his skin. “Besides I’d just want to name it after you.” _

_ “And we can’t have that, I’d look like I have a big head,” Raphael teased. _

_ “H-How about Eros?” Aziraphale asked gently. “Bit on the nose but-” _

_ “Perfect.” Raphael smiled broadly. His arms wrap fully around Aziraphale, just holding him for a moment. “I’m glad you came by tonight. I-I needed the company. Especially your company. Keeps me from going mad.” _

_ “I'm glad I did too,” Aziraphale whispers. “With everything that’s happened, I wasn’t even sure if you’d be here.” Aziraphale’s arms wrapped around Crowley’s. “But I didn’t want to be alone.” _

_ Raphael untangled himself just enough that he could turn Aziraphale around so he could look directly into his beautiful blue eyes. “You never have to be alone again,” Raphael vowed. _

_ “Nor do you,” Aziraphale said cradling the back of Raphael’s head with his fingers. “You don’t have to suffer in silence.” _

_ Raphael pressed his lips against gently against Azirapahle’s, allowing his eyes to drift gently closed. “You truly are an angel,” he whispered as he gently pressed his forehead against Aziraphale’s. _

_ “I would hope,” Aziraphale said with a small smile. _

_ “I’m being a bad host,” Raphael said with a shake of his head. “You can have a seat.” With a thought many of the pillows and blankets appeared scattered around the room. “Make yourself at home,” he said stepping back and gestured to the room. _

_ Aziraphale blushed and took Raphael’s hand. They walked over to Raphael’s bed and he took a seat at the edge. He tugged Raphael down next to him. He bounced lightly on the bed. “This is nice,” Aziraphale said with a smile. _

_ Raphael laid down placing his head in Aziraphale’s lap. “Yeah, but this is better than any pillow in this room,” He said, looking up at Aziraphale. _

_ “Flattery will get you nowhere,” Aziraphale said with a smile that assured Raphael flattery would get him anything right now in this exact moment. _

_ “I happen to know that that is actually a scientific fact,” Raphael said with a firm nod of his head. “I’ve done a lot of experiments on the matter, not one of these pillows compares to you.” _

_ “You mean you just like me playing with your hair and your pillows can’t do that,” Aziraphale replied. His tone may have been flat, but his hands betrayed him as his strong fingers began to gently massage Raphael’s scalp. _

_ “A little,” Raphael confessed. Aziraphale’s fingers found a particularly tense spot on his scalp and he massaged it gently. “That in particular is better than any pillow,” Raphael sighed, as he allowed his eyes to drift closed. _

_ “I think you needed a break,” Aziraphale said. “Err not a permanent one just-“ _

_ “A minute away from work?” _

_ “Precisely.” Raphael could hear the smile in his voice. Aziraphale’s other hand joined the first and Raphael practically melted into his lap. _

_ “Keep that up and you’ll never be rid of me,” Raphael said with a contented sigh. _

_ “Why would I want to be rid of you? I told you I loved you and I meant it,” Aziraphale replied. _

_ “It’s a joke, angel,” Raphael said opening his eyes. He reached up and stroked Aziraphale’s cheek. “I love you very much. I hope you know that.” _

_ Aziraphale blushed from where his tunic rested against his collar bone up to his hair. “I know.” Aziraphale wiggled uncomfortably. “It’s still surprising to me is all. I mean, you’re so spectacular and important. I love you so much. And you love _ me.” _ Aziraphale shook his head. “It’s hard to believe. Sometimes.” _

_ Raphael sat up and cupped Aziraphale’s face in his hands. “Believe it,” he whispered as he pulled in Aziraphale for a kiss. His lips lingered as they brushed Aziraphale’s. “Believe me.” Raphael parted his lips slightly, his tongue gently stroked along the seam of Aziraphale’s lips. _

_ They had experimented with kissing like this before, so Aziraphale opened his mouth just so and with a sigh, Raphael’s tongue brushed against his. Aziraphale’s hands gripped the front of Raphael’s own tunic with a sense of desperation he’d never expressed before. Raphael couldn’t find it in his heart to complain, because he felt the same. With everything that had happened, having Aziraphale here, with him, kissing him, loving him, it was all the reassurance he needed to know ultimately things would be alright for them. He believed in it more fiercely than he believed in anything over the past few days. _

_ He loved Aziraphale and Aziraphale loved him and they were together and that was enough. _

_ Raphael’s mouth trailed across Aziraphale’s cheeks, leaving tender kisses in their wake. He nibbled gently at Aziraphale’s neck, the way they had both loved. _

_ “Raphael,” Aziraphale whispered reverently. It made them both shiver and suddenly this encounter felt different from their previous experiments into kissing. Aziraphale looked up at him through his eyelashes. “Raphael what do you know a-about making,” Aziraphale’s cheeks were flushed in a way that was not entirely from the kissing. “About making the effort?” _

_ Raphael wrapped an arm around Aziraphale’s shoulders. “I-I’ve heard some partners do that, together, if they want it,” he said, trying to read Aziraphale’s face and act casually. “Is that what you want? Because if you don’t want to, if you are doing it because you think it’s what I want, just know we don’t have-“ _

_ “I want it,” Aziraphale said in a whisper. “I’ve wanted it with you since… the kangaroos at least.” Raphael laughed loudly at that. Aziraphale’s fingers played with the end of one of Raphael’s braids. “Is that what you want? With me?” _

_ Raphael smiled gently at him and placed a quick kiss on his lips. “Oh angel, who else?” _

_ Raphael wasn’t sure if Aziraphale pulled him down into the bed or he pushed the other angel down, or perhaps both, but the effect was the same. Raphael was on top of Aziraphale pressing him into the bed. Neither had fully made an effort yet but their hands moved with a different purpose than they had previously. Aziraphale’s hands rested on the small of Raphael’s back, just above the curve of his arse. Raphael settled in between Aziraphale’s legs, his right arm propping himself up the other trailed up and down Aziraphale’s side. _

_ Though neither had manifested an effort yet, nor vanished their robes, their hips began to grind together instinctively. Aziraphale’s eyes closed involuntarily but Raphael kept his open, not wanting to miss one expression on his lover’s face. That and he didn’t blink much anyway. Aziraphale’s hands travelled further down, grabbing and squeezing in time with a roll of his hips. _

_ Raphael began pushing and tugging at Aziraphale’s robes. “I want to see you. Please?” Aziraphale snapped and his clothes were gone, as were Raphael’s own. “That’ll work.” Raphael let out a small nervous laugh._

_ Aziraphale was also nervous, but he was still smiling. “Is this alright?” Aziraphale said, his gaze flicking down his own body. Raphael followed. He was familiar with the feel of Aziraphale’s form but seeing it for the first time was breathtaking. He had a softness to him that Raphael couldn’t help but love. _

_ “More than,” Raphael said as he kissed Aziraphale’s lips. He slowly kissed down his body, loving every inch of him, showing him just how loved he truly was by Raphael. Aziraphale squirmed and sighed. His hands gripped Raphael’s shoulders tightly, overwhelmed. _

_ Aziraphale had prepared himself to be penetrated and Raphael’s effort formed exactly what Aziraphale wanted. _

_ Raphael held himself still over Aziraphale, efforts inches apart. “You’re sure?” he asked one last time. _

_ Aziraphale planted a quick kiss to Raphael’s lips. “Absolutely.” His arms wrapped around Raphael. “Are you sure?” _

_ “Y-Yes.” And then they were one flesh. Raphael held himself still, trying to adjust to the new sensation of being _ inside _ Aziraphale. “Still alright?” He asked, _

_ “Oh, G-Yes,” Aziraphale said. He rolled his hips insistently. “Please.” _

_ Raphael could never resist Aziraphale. They rocked together, slowly at first, adjusting to the entirely new sensations they were experiencing. _

_ Then Aziraphale moved his legs so they’re wrapped around Raphael’s hips and Raphael can feel himself going deeper “Aziraphale,” he groans. His hips began to snap forward in a faster pace, almost entirely of their own accord. _

_ Aziraphale moaned out a string of ‘Raphael’s’ and ‘yes’ and ‘more’. _

_ Raphael felt his essence leaking into Aziraphale with every thrust and in return he could feel himself being filled with Aziraphale’s. The reached their peaks quickly gasping into each other’s mouths as their souls merged. _

_ “Angel, are you alright?” Raphael asked as he held himself above Aziraphale with trembling arms. _

_ Aziraphale was panting but he had a blissful smile on his face. “Oh yes, my love.” He opened his eyes and gently pushed some of Raphael’s hair back from his face. “Couldn’t be happier.” _

Crowley let out a small moan as Aziraphale removed his now soft effort from Crowley. “My dear, You can’t possibly want to keep going,” Aziraphale said with a laugh. He curled up behind Crowley, holding him close. “Even we need a break sometimes.” 

“I know,” Crowley whined. He turned himself over in Aziraphale’s arms and began idly playing with the light trail of white hair on his chest. “But as soon as the night ends I have to get on a boat and head to America.” He groaned. “And I’ve heard some nasty things are happening over there.” 

“I know, my bosses are _ so _ proud of me,” Aziraphale rolled his eyes. 

“When’s the last time you’ve even been to America?” 

“A millenia, give or take a century,” Aziraphale said with a laugh. “Is it bad I don’t feel the need to correct them?” He looked down at him, pushing the long red locks out of his face. “If it gets them to leave me alone for a while?” 

Crowley hummed. “I mean, you’re a demon so is being bad necessarily bad?” 

“Don’t make me think, love,” Aziraphale said with a sigh as he rolled into his back, dragging Crowley across his chest, his breasts pressing up delightfully against Aziraphale’s chest. “I just want to enjoy your company until you leave.” 

Crowley hummed content. “You just want one more round where I’m wearing the nun get up I’m supposed to wear in America.” 

“That was an option?” Aziraphale was suddenly pushing Crowley into a sitting position. “Then by all means.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks to my lovely beta who comments every chapter to keep my serotonin in check and lets me ask her questions at all hours. 
> 
> I deliberately kept the heavenly biology vague, hope that's alright. 
> 
> Comments, Kudos, and whatever positive feedback you have are kept for rainy days (both literal and metaphorical).


	5. Dealt a Losing Hand

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Michael and Crowley scheme. Gabriel visits Earth.

Chapter 5 -Dealt A Losing Hand 

“Crowley, you simply cannot keep missing meeting council meetings if you plan to influence the council,” Michael said with a heavy sign. She rested her head in her hand and leaned on the arm of the chair she occupied in the rooms he was renting currently on Earth. There were less prying ears on earth than in heaven, she was forced to admit. “Gabriel is still running over everything with his agenda. At best it’s a 3-2 decision if Uriel goes my way.”

Crowley threw his head back and groaned dramatically. “I told you I don’t get notice,” he said with less patience than an angel should have. “The only time I get any notice at all, since the ‘true name incident’, is when you give me the unofficial heads up.” 

“Sandalphon swears he’s sending someone,” Michael said with a small frown. 

Crowley drummed his fingers on the small table and bit his lip in thought. “Do you really think he is?” Crowley asked as if he didn’t quite believe it himself. 

Michael lifted her head to look at Crowley’s face carefully. “You think he’d lie about that?” There was weaponizing the system against them, but it was another to ignore it entirely. She shivered involuntarily at the thought. It was a new low, if true. 

“I don’t know,” Crowley admitted with a shrug. “But what else could possibly be the explanation?” He leaned forward. “You are aware that you are the only angel I’ve had contact with in,” he hummed in thought, “half a century? Give or take.” 

Michael’s frown deepened. “Surely not?” She shook her head. “Gabriel couldn’t possibly keep his nose out of things for that long. He’s up my feathered ass every day and even he admits I’m good at my job.” 

“Look, I know it doesn’t seem his style,” Crowley said with a sigh. “But what else could it be?” 

_ There was an insistent yet quiet knocking at Michael’s chamber doors. She frowned, she wasn’t expecting anyone and in fact was looking forward to a quiet evening for herself. “Who is it?” she called out, not bothering to open her eyes.  _

_ “Raphael, please open up,” he hissed. “It’s important. And mostly work related.”  _

_ Michael idly thought to herself that if it was work related she actually wanted even less to do with his visit. And yet she also knew if Raphael was calling on her during their down time, it had to be serious. She gestured vaguely toward the door, and opened her eyes just in time too see Raphael fall into the room.  _

_ Raphael glared at her. “I’ll just ignore that,” he said with a frown. “I suppose it’s fair.” _

_ “It is.” Michael said. She created another chaise lounge across from hers for him anyway.  _

_ Much to her surprise Raphael did not throw himself onto it. Instead he sat down and leaned forward. “Michael, we need to talk,” he whispered. “Please.” He looked over both his shoulders as if there would be anyone else in her chambers. Raphael was the only person in heaven left whom she’d let in. And perhaps Aziraphale, if Raphael brought him along.  _

_ “Well, go on then.” Michael said sitting up. _

_ “Are-are you as,” Raphael bit his lip in thought as he considered his words carefully. “Concerned about Gabriel’s new policy proposals as I am?”  _

_ “You know I am. But are you upset in general or is there one in particular that bothers you?” _

_ “Both?” He said with a shrug.  _

_ Michael shrugged. “That’s fair.”  _

_ “Take for example, this new checking in on everyone’s miracles, making sure everyone doesn’t do too many,” Raphael said with a wave of his hand. “What is that about?” He pointed upward. “She commanded ‘Protect humanity.’ Above all else we are to protect humanity.”  _

_ “I know,” Michael sighed. “And you know I follow Her commands.”  _

_ “Of course, there’s no question there,” Raphael said plainly. “But back to the point, what is the point of that policy? If we’re supposed to protect humanity we don’t need to be breathing down the necks of others watching every little thing they do. How can we worry about our ultimate commandment if Gabriel is waiting in the wings so make a snide comment and make a note in your performance review?” _

_ “Raphael,” she sighed.  _

_ “And these security measures,” Raphael continued, as he really got  _ _ into his rant and let out a low hiss. “These security measures -ah- I’m so sick of these security measures. I-  _ I  _ have to register for clearance to go to Earth.” He scoffed. “How are we supposed to protect humanity, check on angels who report to us, and fight the opposition if I’m having to ask ‘Pretty please, rest of the council, may I go to earth?’” He rolled his eyes. “Utterly ridiculous.”  _

_ Michael pursed her lips together. She was grateful to be in her private chambers, if this was how Raphael wanted to talk. “I agree, it is troubling,” she said, a small frown forming. “I understand the war has shaken all of us. You and I perhaps more than the rest of the council realizes. But, there are other ways to protect ourselves and humanity.”  _

_ Raphael nodded. “Exactly.”  _

_ “But what do you suppose we do about it?”  _

_ “Vote them down,” Raphael said as if the answer were both easy and obvious. “Propose changes of our own.”  _

_ Michael hummed in thought. “You think we can continue to pull it off?” They’d been stuck in a deadlock about things other than basic recovery at every meeting of the council since the war had ended.  _

_ “Why not?” Raphael sat back slightly, starting to relax now. “ We’re doing fine just now. They’re still just proposals at this point,” he reminded her. “We don’t answer to him.”  _

_ “Metatron would likely continue to vote with Gabriel,” Michael pointed out. “So we’d still be at a stalemate.”  _

_ “But when Uriel comes back, which should be soon, as their injuries are healing nicely,” Raphael said with a small, hopeful smile. “They can be persuaded, if we pitch it as an overreach of Council Authority. That’s a majority.”  _

_ Michael began to feel the first spark of hope she’d had since the war. She opened her mouth to say something when there was another knock at her chamber door and then a letter appeared in Michael’s hand.  _

_ “That has Gabriel’s seal on it,” Raphael said with a small frown.  _

_ Michael opened it with slightly shaking hands and read it quickly. “Gabriel, with Metatron and Uriel, requests a vote at earliest council meeting possible for filling of Barachiel’s empty council seat with a remaining member of Her Heavenly Host.”  _

_ Michael and Raphael’s eyes met over the paper. Things just became a lot more difficult. _

“If I knew it wouldn’t offend you terribly I’d swear to Her it’s true. The last angel I talked to was a run in with that younger one, what’s his name Ca-Cast-Casteal?” 

“Cassiel.” One of hers. 

Crowley snapped. “That’s the one!” he crowed. “But even that was an accident. He was on a quick one time mission that happened to be in the same city as me. I don’t know if that even properly counts.” 

Michael shut her eyes and rubbed a small miracle into her temples, trying to avoid a headache. Realization was dawning on her. “If that’s the case, then it does seem more likely than not that Sandalphon may not be sending notice.” She trembled with anger. “How? How can they just throw aside the rules so easily?” 

“I don’t know,” Crowley said gently. 

Michael stood up and began to pace. “There are rules. I’m no Uriel, but there are rules. There is procedure. The basics of which were handed down by Her.” 

“I know.” 

“Sure, things have had to change, the war, Sandalphon’s promotion, you going to Earth, but the council still followed the rules. We may not always like the decision, but it was fair. But now, they’ve just thrown them out the window!” Michael wheeled on Raphael. “How can you be so calm?” 

“I was this angry back when Aziraphale was sentenced, been simmering with it for millenia at this point.” 

Michael’s righteous fury deflated in an instant. “I’m sorry.” Raphael waved her off. “There’s a meeting tomorrow.” 

“Think it’ll get under Gabriel’s feathers if I showed up tomorrow?” Crowley asked with a grin. 

“I do,” Michael said. “But I’m afraid if you come to a meeting right after I’ve visited Earth the nature of my visit will become obvious.” 

“I agree.” 

“Next time?” 

“Next time.” 

  
  
  


Crowley was milling around the crowded streets looking for Aziraphale. He could sense the demon’s presence nearby but it wasn’t like he could start shouting “anyone seen an incredibly handsome demon around?” In the middle of London. The humans may have stopped burning women alive centuries ago but there was no need to tempt fate. 

Crowley checked the letter Aziraphale had sent him again. He skimmed over the recommendation to read the new novel  _ Pride and Prejudice _ (Aziraphale had claimed it was inspiring lust in young women across the country, despite Aziraphale having nothing to do with its writing.) He checked the address at the bottom of the letter again. He should be near where Aziraphale had told him to meet him. Crowley looked up the addresses on the buildings. He was close. 

Crowley turned around to see Aziraphale leaning in the doorway of the shop on the corner with a smirk. 

“How long were you gonna let me wander around like an idiot?” Crowley grumbled with no real bite. 

“Only as long as I could still see your arse and legs in those trousers.” Aziraphale replied with a smirk. Crowley looked down at himself. He wasn’t sure what was so special about his tight cream coloured breaches but if Aziraphale liked them, well, maybe he could keep tighter trousers in his repertoire. “Hello to you too, by the way. 

Still Crowley rolled his eyes out of principle. “So what’s this then?” He said gazing at the shop behind Aziraphale. It was a good looking shop. Fresh paint. Nice location in Soho. 

“A shop,” Aziraphale replied as he unlocked the door with a key. He pushed the door open. “After you.” 

“No shit it’s a shop,” Crowley said with an annoyed but fond smile. He walked into the store. The shelves were slowly being filled with various books and accoutrements. “Aziraphale,” Crowley said sputtering. “What the hell is this place?” 

“Such language from an angel,” Aziraphale said with a fond smile and a shake of his head. “And it's a book shop!” Aziraphale said proudly, locking the door behind him. He handed Crowley a book. “See?” 

The book’s page edges tilted in such a way to reveal a picture of red headed man administering fellatio on a blonde man. He practically dropped the book in shock. “You mean a shop that sells pornography and accessories,” Crowley said giving a copy of a book about the Marquis de Sade a sideways glance. 

“Well, I am a demon, and it is Soho,” Aziraphale said as he walked in front of Crowley. “Isn’t it great?” 

Crowley was certain his face was as red as his hair. “S-sssure, Angel,” He managed to get out. “Lovely.” 

“Oh come along dear, it’s not like that wasn’t anything we haven’t done ourselves.” Aziraphale snapped his fingers and the curtains of the shop lowered. The only light in the room coming from candles that Crowley hadn’t noticed before. “You’re hardly an innocent.” 

“That’s different though,” Crowley managed to stutter out. “That’s you and I.” His eyes drifted over a set of handcuffs with far too much interest. 

Aziraphale shrugged. “If you need to tell yourself tha,t fine. I have some wine in the back.” Aziraphale held up his hands in mock innocence. “Unless sharing wine here is too demonic for you.” 

Crowley pulled Aziraphale close in a flash and pushed him up against the nearest bookshelf. His lips moved frantically against Aziraphale’s own. Lips, teeth, and tongues moved against each other insistently. 

When they finally parted their lips for air that neither really needed Aziraphale spoke first. “See, hardly an innocent.” 

“Oh shut up,” Crowley whispered back. He rubbed his nose gently against Aziraphale’s. “It’s been too long.” 

Aziraphale hummed in agreement. “Far too long indeed.” His hands caressed Crowley’s lower back under his jacket, making Crowley feel warm and protected. “What’s it been, couple of decades?” 

“Close enough,” Crowley said with a contented sigh. “Did you ever get Ben Franklin to leave you alone, by the way?” He asked as he slowly untangled his own limbs from Aziraphale so they could continue the tour of Aziraphale’s nest of lust. 

Aziraphale grabbed his hand and pulled him deeper into the shop. “Eventually, but it took some  _ suggestion _ .” 

“But you told him we were married,” Crowley mumbled confused as he took a seat on a lovely little settee Aziraphale had in his back room. It was a soft, velvet thing in a warm reddish color, Crowley knew it was meant for him. “He caught us--” 

“Yes, you had my skirt rucked up and had yourself balls deep in your ‘wife,’” Aziraphale smiled at the memory. “Unfortunately, he just thought that meant once you left I was available. Out of sight out of mind,” Aziraphale said as he walked back into a little kitchen area. He pulled out a bottle of wine and two glasses before walking back toward Crowley. “Honestly, if anything our little display made it harder to get rid of him. The thrill of the chase and whatnot.” 

Aziraphale handed Crowley a glass and settled himself on the other end of the sofa. “I’m sorry,” he said with a wince. “If I had known-“ 

Aziraphale shook his head, “You had your orders and I had mine. And I handled him all on my own.” He filled both of their glasses with a merlot. “How’ve the last few decades treated you, my dear?” 

Crowley shrugged. “Not as poorly as others, this century is off to a better start.” He took a sip of the wine. Exquisite, as always. “So this shop, you’ll be in London for a while I take it?” Crowley rested his free arm across the back of the settee running his fingers lightly over the soft fabric of Aziraphale’s jacket. 

“That’s the beauty of the shop, I always have a place to come back to,” Aziraphale said with a small smile. He rested his hand over Crowley’s. “And you’ll always know where to find me, no more letters shot into the dark.” They’d been exchanging letters off and on for a few centuries now. Some found the intended recipient more easily than others. Aziraphale’s hand slowly made its way up Crowley’s arm, and his fingers gently ran over Crowley’s cheek. 

Crowley smiled gently. “That’ll be nice,” he said, softly, leaning into Aziraphale’s touch. “Might have to look into a place in London myself.” 

“The two of us, living in the same city?” Aziraphale said with a laugh. “That’s practically living in sin for you.” 

Crowley turned his head and planted a gentle kiss to the base of Aziraphale’s palm. “I’ll be ensnared by a demon in no time at all,” he said. 

“A handsome one though,” Aziraphale quipped. 

“And a bit full of himself,” Crowley teased. 

Aziraphale moved on the couch, inching closer. “Demon, darling,” Aziraphale whispered before planting another kiss on his lips. 

Crowley shook with silent laughter and shook his head. “What am I going to do with you?” 

“Take me to lunch?” Crowley leveled him with a flat look. “I’m a bit peckish,” he continued. 

“Fine.” 

_ Raphael was nervous. Why was he nervous? Aziraphale had asked him to find him again later and that was exactly what he was doing. Michael would probably accuse him of overthinking, and cite their first meeting going well because he hadn’t thought, but that was Michael.  _

_ Aziraphale’s platoon had just finished their training exercises for the day and they were slowly trickling out of the training area, miracling their uniforms away and back into their robes. Aziraphale was, of course, the last angel out of the training room, but Raphael could be patient. After all, Aziraphale had confessed that he was a little shy.  _

_ “Hello, Aziraphale,” Raphael said as Aziraphale unknowingly approached where Raphael was inconspicuously observing (though Michael would accuse it of hiding). _

_ Aziraphale startled and somehow stood even straighter. “Sir.”  _

_ “Relax, this is a social call, remember?” Raphael smiled gently at him. “You asked me to look for you later.” Raphael was suddenly and somehow even more nervous. “If it’s a bad time I can go. Is this alright?” _

_ “Oh yes, yes, definitely alright,” Aziraphale said with a hesitant smile. “I was just-” He trailed off. “Surprised. I wasn’t expecting it now, but its fine. More than fine. I-” His face was turning that beautiful shade of pinkish red again. “I’m glad you’re here.”  _

_ “Good, good,” Raphael said with a nod. He hadn’t actually planned for what he was going to say next. Especially given that he’d startled Aziraphale. This interaction was off the rails. Maybe he should have asked Michael about how she broke the ice with her partner. Not that Aziraphale was his partner. Not yet. But hopefully? Sure, she was still pretty mum on the details, but it was him. And he needed to say something soon. “Umm, did you want to do something together?”  _

_ “Absolutely,” Aziraphale said with a smile. “That is,” he wound his fingers together. “If you’re free.”  _

_ “Of course. Why would I be here otherwise?” Raphael winced at his tone but Aziraphale laughed. Laughing was good, he thought. “I-I wanted to show you something actually.”  _

_ Aziraphale’s eyes lit up in a way Raphael had only seen in the bluest of stars, which gave Crowley the perfect idea for what he wanted to show Aziraphale. “Oh?” He asked, his voice barely hiding his excitement.  _

_ “Yeah, if you’re interested.”  _

_ “I am.”  _

_ Raphael unfurled his bright red wings and offered Aziraphale a hand. “Come on then.”  _

_ Aziraphale considered his hand for a second and then took it, smiling broadly. “Where are we going?”  _

_ “You were looking at Earth earlier, want to see it up close?”  _

_ That was the first time Raphael and Aziraphale would see earth together, but Raphael sincerely hoped it would not be the last.  _

“So then, when I’m in France who should I see but Ben Franklin again?” Aziraphale said with a laugh as the walked together back toward the shop in the early evening hours. 

“Oh no,” Crowley groaned dramatically. 

“Not to worry, by this point I looked like a man again and he was busy bothering some other willing woman,” Aziraphale’s shoulder ‘drunkenly’ brushed against Crowley’s. “Thomas Jefferson though, he was trouble.” 

“Got a thing for redheads?” Crowley asked with a gentle smile of his own. 

Aziraphale snorted. “I can barely handle the one,” he quipped. “No, he just kept staring saying I looked familiar but he couldn’t place it.” 

“I usually just say I have one of those faces, when that happens.” 

“I do the same. Ah. Here we are.” Aziraphale lead him up to the door of the shop. He struggled with the lock on the door for a bit before Crowley rolled his eyes and miracled the door open for him. “I nearly had it,” the demon said with a pout. 

“Yes, how dare I open the door for you? Report me for impatience,” Crowley said holding the door open for Aziraphale. 

Aziraphale grabbed Crowley by the lapels of his jacket and pulled him into the shop and into a passionate kiss. Crowley heard door slam and lock behind him. He smiled into the kiss. Aziraphale pulled back. “I’m allowed to be impatient.” He began to push off Crowley’s jacket. “Part of the job description.” 

Crowley’s fingers began to tug at the knot at Aziraphale’s throat and tug at the collar of Aziraphale’s shirt with his teeth. “What on earth are you impatient for?” He teased as he shrugged out of his coat, allowing it to fall to the floor. 

“To show you the bedroom upstairs of course,” Aziraphale whispered in Crowley’s ear. 

With no protest Crowley found himself not only dragged through the bookshop, and up the stairs faster than he thought possible. 

Aziraphale shut the door to the bedroom and then pinned Crowley to it with his body. His hands began to explore Crowley’s chest toying with the buttons of his waistcoat. “You know what I like most about those trousers?” Aziraphale panted into his neck. 

“My arse?” Crowley asked, his mind struggled to keep up with conversation as Aziraphale easily removed his waistcoat and started on his shirt. 

“Well, that too,” Aziraphale said with a laugh. “But no, not that.” 

Crowley groaned as one of Aziraphale’s fingers brushed over his nipples. Crowley’s own hands were not idle, continuing to work at Aziraphale’s own clothing. With a snap of his fingers Aziraphale’s own waistcoat, shirt and frock coat were hanging in his wardrobe. 

Aziraphale smiled up at him gently. “You remembered,” he said with a small air of wonder. 

“Remember the arse chewing you gave me last time I let your clothes fall to the ground?” Crowley used Aziraphale’s shock to start pushing him back to the sinfully comfortable looking bed he could see just over Aziraphale’s shoulder. “How could I forget?” 

Aziraphale sat on the edge of the bed. His hands drifted down Crowley’s bare chest to cradle his hips. “See this is why I love these trousers,” Aziraphale whispered as his hands shifted to the front as he toyed with the buttons. “I already know exactly what effort you’ve made.” One hand rubbed over Crowley’s quickly stiffening cock. 

Crowley bit his lip as his hips bucked into Aziraphale’s touch. “It’s the fashion,” Crowley protested weakly. 

“Of course darling,” Aziraphale replied with a wink. He unbuttoned the trousers. He lowered the trousers and freed Crowley’s rapidly hardening effort. “Is it also fashionable to get sucked off?”

“Only if it’s you,” Crowley said gripping Aziraphale’s shoulders for balance. “Only you.” 

Aziraphale placed a gentle kiss to the head of Crowley’s prick. “Same for you, darling,” he whispered before swallowing Crowley down to the root. 

After several frantic hours of relearning each other’s bodies they’d settled into a comfortable slumber. Much to his surprise Crowley woke first. He glanced out the window and tried to estimate what time it was. The smog was only growing worse in London and he’d struggled to see Eros’s position in the sky. It was barely visible from earth but Crowley always could find it. 

Azriaphale curled himself tightly around his back. The demon didn’t sleep much but when he did, he was dead to the world (and just as much of a constrictor as Crowley was, to Crowley’s never ending delight). Crowley stilled himself nonetheless, basking in the feeling of Aziraphale’s warmth. 

Azriaphale shifted again, half mumbling something. That was something else Aziraphale did on the rare occasions he slept, he’d talk. Once Crowley had held an entire conversation with him about squirrels Aziraphale couldn’t recall the next morning. 

Tonight though he heard “-aphael.” Crowley hummed thoughtfully, trying to not wake Aziraphale but have him repeat himself. “Raphael,” Aziraphale whispered.

Crowley froze. “What?” He asked far too loudly. 

Aziraphale stirred slightly. “Wassat?” He mumbled into the crook of Crowley’s neck. 

“Nothing, go back to sleep,” Crowley replied quickly. “You were just sleep talking.” 

Aziraphale hummed and fell back into blissful slumber. 

Crowley did not. 

  
  
  


The note had been very clear:  _ Hyde Park. Midnight. Alone. -G _ . The gold swirling ink had been unmistakable, as had the spark of magic on the note. He’d ushered Aziraphale out of his new flat easily enough and prepared for the meeting. 

Crowley entered the park cautiously. He knew he probably should have told Michael about the meeting, not any particulars but the generalities of it, just in case. It felt like a trap, but he wasn’t going to willingly endanger anyone else. Crowley wasn’t so naive as to think there was no danger, but Gabriel was still an Archangel, a peer, equals.

Crowley couldn’t think about that now. He found Gabriel standing alone in the middle of the path. “Raphael, so good of you to finally join us,” Gabriel greeted him happily enough. “Sandalphon and I were just debating why the fashionable humans have all taken to wearing these mourning bands,” he gestured to the black fabric encircling his upper arm. 

Crowley heard the gravel crunch behind him. There went any ideas of it being equal footing. “I said it couldn’t have been a great king, we’d know,” Sandalphon said, his voice far too close to Crowley’s exposed back for comfort. “Or certainly Raphael would tell us.”

“Oh you’re right, it’s not a king.” Crowley swallowed and turned himself so he was perpendicular to the both of them. Not an ideal position but he felt slightly safer. “Of course I’d tell you if a king died unexpectedly. No. Wasn’t that. One of their great literary heroes has died,” he explained. 

“An author?” Sandalphon asked with a frown. 

“A character,” Crowley explained, suddenly grateful he’d accidentally started this trend of public mourning when Aziraphale read him the latest of Doyle’s story. (“I love a good story as much as the next darling, but don’t you think you’re being a bit over emotional?”) “The great detective Sherlock Holmes has died.” 

“They’re mourning a  _ fictional _ character?” Gabriel asked incredulously. “You must be joking.”

“Humanity’s love is overwhelming,” Crowley explained easily enough. “Even for those who were never real.”

Gabriel and Sandalphon both looked disgusted. 

“I assume you didn’t come down to earth to ask about fashion or literary trends,” Crowley said neutrally enough as he turned more toward Gabriel. “I gather there something more important you needed?” 

“Oh Raphael, you never liked to beat around the bush, did you?” Gabriel said with a disappointed shake of his head. 

“‘Brevity is the soul of wit,’ or so the humans say” Crowley replied with a shrug. “Though, I have to tell you it’s not from one of my favorite plays. The comedies are better, everyone gets their married happily ever afters.” 

“Cut the crap, Raphael,” Sandalphon said, suddenly breathing down Crowley’s neck. 

Crowley took a measured breath, trying to control his nerves as he mentally kicked himself for turning his back on Sandalphon. What an amateur mistake. “Like I was saying, what do you want?” 

Gabriel’s fake smile dropped in an instant. “I know what you’ve been doing.” 

“You’ve been reading my reports?” Crowley asked with false enthusiasm. “Good. I’ve been working hard lately. The twentieth century is shaping up to be one interesting time.” He gestured broadly. “So many changes on the horizon.” 

“You know what I mean,” Gabriel said flatly. 

“I really don’t,” Crowley replied. And truly there were dozens of things Gabriel could be referring to.

“Sandalphon.” 

In a blink Sandalphon had gripped him by the throat and lifted him into the air. Crowley felt the air choked out of his throat like he was trying to say things he shouldn’t. No. This was worse. Sandalphon’s hand glowed with holy fire, a threatening heat that could easily turn into a burn. Crowley struggled against him, his hands instinctively began beating at Sandalphon’s arm as he tried desperately to slither out of the choke hold. He felt his body growing weaker with each passing second. An angel didn’t need to breathe but his body needed some oxygen, especially when experiencing heavenly torture. He was on the edge of unconsciousness when Gabriel said, “Enough.” 

Crowley hit the ground, limp. 

_ Raphael was sulking. Or at least Michael had accused him of sulking. Aziraphale and his angels were overseeing their normal duties and yes, of course, Raphael wanted his angels to do a good job, particularly because he knew Aziraphale was a wonderful angel who wanted to please Her with a job well done, but he also wanted Aziraphale here. With him. They could continue their new experiments in kissing. And they could talk. Or they could take turns doing both. Anything was preferable to this.  _

_ Raphael let out a truly pathetic groan. He was being selfish and angels were supposed to be selfless. And those were apparently opposites according to windbags like Metatron. But why would God have allowed them to love each other if they weren’t allowed to be a little selfish?  _

_ Metatron hadn’t liked that question.  _

_ Metatron didn’t like many questions. Neither did Gabriel. It was making the council meetings awkward. Especially because She wasn’t always there to answer his questions anymore.  _

_ “What’s got your feathers all ruffled?” A voice asked cutting through the silence as he floated vaguely through space, his long red wings stretched in all directions.  _

_ Raphael looked to where the voice was coming from. “Lucifer,” he greeted his friend with a warm smile. “How are you?”  _

_ Lucifer smiled easily and flew next to Raphael. “Same old boring job, like always,” he said with an eye roll. “No changes here. You?”  _

_ “I’m doing alright, actually,” Raphael said with a small shrug. “Things are good.”  _

_ “Then why the long face?” Raphael felt heat rush to his cheeks. “You’re turning as red as your hair and wings, Raphael. What’s on your mind?”  _

_ Raphael smiled shyly. “I think I met someone.” His wings twitched with excitement. “You know, love, maybe.” He ran his fingers through his hair. “Still early days.”  _

_ “Really?” Lucifer asked flying closer to Raphael. “Anyone I’d know?”  _

_ Raphael thought a moment and then shook his head. “No, I don’t think so.”  _

_ Lucifer hummed. “Shame.” Lucifer stretched his wings then flew closer to Raphael. Ordinarily Angels were very demonstrative in their affections. Hugs, embraces, hand holding, friendly touches, even greeting and parting kisses on the cheek. Partners even more so, (see Aziraphale and Crowley’s own experiments.) Some even made efforts. Speaking of, he made a mental note to see how Aziraphale felt about that at some point. No rush, but he was curious to try if Aziraphale was keen. However, Lucifer seemed tense, and the way he encroached on Raphael’s space made him feel uncomfortable, though Raphael didn’t show it. “You haven’t been to my parties lately.”  _

_ “I’ve been busy,” Raphael said with a shrug. It was true. Between the stars, and earth, and the council, and his other duties, and Aziraphale, he found his life fully occupied. Sure parts could be annoying, repetitive, but he’d never been more happy.  _

_ “With this new partner of yours?” Lucifer asked, his voice carrying the tiniest edge of accusation.  _

_ “Yes?” Raphael replied. He was beginning to frown only from confusion instead of selfish annoyance. “He’s not been invited and I know how you are about your guest list.” Personally Raphael always found it a little rude, how Lucifer was oddly selective in who came to his parties, but he couldn’t put a finger on why. “What does that matter?”  _

_ “I just don’t want this new lover of yours keeping you from your friends, your passions,” Lucifer said, gently stroking Raphael’s hair. “I don’t want you getting hurt.”  _

_ “I’m fine,” Raphael said easily, but with an unmistakable firmness. “That’s not what’s happening. At all.”  _

_ Lucifer frowned. “If you say so. Just seems a bit strange you meet this new person and suddenly  _ you're _ a new person.”  _

_ “Lucifer, you are one of my dearest friends, I assure you it’s all fine,” Raphael repeated, though his ‘S’ sounds drug out like they tended to when he was nervous.  _

_ Lucifer’s frown deepened. “Well, suit yourself, but don’t miss my next party, it’s gonna be a big one.”  _

_ “Well, if my partner is invited, I’ll try,” Raphael said with a nod.  _

_ “If they’re not invited, they’re not invited,” Lucifer said, his voice suddenly sharp. “There’s reasons to keep things quiet.”  _

_ Raphael dew back from Lucifer minutely. “What’s gotten into you lately?”  _

_ “Me?” Lucifer asked incredulously. “You wanna ask what’s gotten into me?” Lucifer flew back into Raphael’s personal space. “All I’m trying to do is make sure my dearest friend is being true to himself.”  _

_ Raphael backed away again. “I am. I have to go now,” he said quickly. “I’ll try to catch you later.” Raphael took off in flight. In flight no one could catch him, he was the fastest of Her angels, even other members of the council. Raphael usually enjoyed zipping around quickly, but now it felt oddly necessary for a reason  _

Crowley forced himself from his prone position up onto all fours, gravel digging into his knees and palms as he struggled to breathe. Sandalphon had nearly collapsed his windpipe, it would have killed a mortal man. It nearly killed him. Crowley looked up at Gabriel aghast. 

“G-“ Crowley gasped. “Gabriel,” it came out a strangled whisper. “Wh-What?”

“You’re getting in my way, Raphael,” Gabriel said standing over him. 

“”What-“ Crowley found himself coughing as his throat burned with each inhale, his own healing doing nothing for angel inflicted pain. “What are you on about?” 

“You’ve been messing with the council,” Sandalphon sneered. He kicked dirt in Crowley’s eyes causing him to cough again, his head fell forward and his golden eyes prickled with tears. “We haven’t been able to pass a proposal in decades.” 

“That-” Crowley managed between coughs and lungfuls of dust. “That’s my sacred duty.” Crowley forced himself more upright, on his knees, his arms free for whatever he’d need them for. “Given to me, by Her since my creation.” 

“Then stop standing in Her way,” Gabriel shouted, seemingly losing his calm. . 

“You mean stop standing in your way,” Crowley shot back. He shook his head. “What happened Gabriel? We’re meant to be brothers. Sure, we haven’t always seen eye to eye, but that doesn’t mean it had to come to this. We are allowed to disagree, that’s why she created a council. Let someone other than your posse talk for a change.” 

Sandalphon kicked him in the ribs causing him to fall to the ground again. “Be quiet,” Sandalphon growled as he stepped on Crowley’s now cracked ribs. 

Gabriel stood over him. “I’ll cut you a deal, Raphael, you stop pushing back against my council agenda and I don’t let Sandalphon hunt down Aziraphale on earth and take care of him permanently.” 

“Wh-” Crowley’s heart was beating out of his chest. “What are you-?” 

“We’re angels you fucking idiot,” Gabriel said. “Do you really think I don’t know how you feel about that demon? How you felt about him before?”

Crowley surged upward, to demand answers from Gabriel but Sandalphon’s foot held firm and he fell back to the ground. “You-” 

“Leave us alone, and Aziraphale doesn’t get a holy water bath,” Sandalphon elaborated, adding more pressure to Crowley’s cracked ribs. 

“And then you’ll take his place in Hell, but I can’t imagine Hell would be as welcoming to the former archangel Raphael,” And with that Gabriel and Sandalphon were gone. 

Crowley shook from overwhelming emotions as he laid on the ground. Anger, fear, shock. He coughed, tasting the iron tang of his human body’s blood in his mouth. His head was fuzzy and he felt himself sway dangerously as he tried to right himself. His whole body ached and he couldn’t heal his wounds properly. Angelic bodies weren’t meant to heal themselves in general, not selfless enough. The rules had been changed so they could heal themselves against demonic wounds, but that was the only exception. Angel-on-angel violence was supposed to be a thing of the past now that the lines had been drawn. 

His vision began to blur again as he found himself collapsing onto his back. He tried to keep himself conscious, figuring Gabriel would make it so he couldn’t get a new body any time soon, but staying alert was a losing battle. A street lamp in the distance was his only light and it seemed to grow brighter for some reason. But then it was blocked off by a dark shadow. 

“Crowley,” Aziraphale bent down and Crowley felt himself cradled against Aziraphale’s chest. 

“You-You shouldn’t be here,” Crowley said as he weakly tried to push away Aziraphale. “ ‘s not safe.” 

“Yes, I can see that,” Aziraphale replied gently stroking his face. Aziraphale’s own face was lined with concentration and pain and then Crowley could feel his throat and ribs heat up with miraculous healing. “You can yell at me for snooping in your mail later.” A particularly broken rib snapped back into place causing him to wince. “After this I’ll be glad to hear you scream, put these patches to the test.” 

“H-How did you find--” Crowley coughed again, thankfully a little less painfully this time. 

“You were acting suspiciously,” Aziraphale said with a shrug. “And when I went back to check on you you weren’t there. Saw the note.” Crowley was glad his vision was straightening out because Aziraphale then looked him carefully in the eye. “Saw the whole thing.” 

Crowley tried to twist out of Aziraphale’s embrace. “Then you know it's not safe.” 

“It’s never been safe, Crowley,” Aziraphale snapped then shook his head. “Not for either of us.” Aziraphale took a deep breath. “Demons aren’t supposed to love Crowley, not anyone, not ever, but well, here I am.” He shook his head again. “It was always dangerous, but I always assumed you knew and we accepted the danger together.” 

“Aziraphale,” Crowley whispered. He felt the last of his injuries heal. He forced himself more upright, cradling Aziraphale’s face with his hands. “If you heard then you know, I lo-” 

Aziraphale put a finger over Crowley’s lips. “I know. Don’t worry. I know.” Crowley could see that Aziraphale’s eyes were red and not entirely dry before the demon turned his head away. “I’ve always known, really. Never doubted you for a second.” Aziraphale winced as his free hand massaged one of his temples. “Does healing always cause such a headache, Raphael?” 

“No, not usual-” Crowley froze. “What?” He swallowed nervously. “What did you call me?” 

Aziraphale’s head slowly drifted upward, his eyes locking with Crowley’s. “Raphael,” Aziraphale said with a small amount of wonder. “You-You’re Raphael.” Aziraphale’s mouth opened and closed several times, his eyes losing focus as he mumbled, “Kangaroos” and passed out himself. 

No matter how Crowley shook and cajoled, Aziraphale wouldn’t wake. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I realize i should maybe apologize for the cliff hanger. But rest assured I'm all about happy endings. Just keep that in mind and don't come after me. 
> 
> Comments, Kudos, and any other kindness is greatly appreciated.


	6. A Victim Of Venomous Fate

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Aziraphale Awakens. Michael fights. Crowley Retreats.

Chapter 6 Victim of Venomous Fate

  
  


Crowley knew absolutely fuck all about running a book shop. He knew even less about running a book shop about sins of the flesh, dark magic, and other suitably demonic activity. But like hell was he going to let Aziraphale recover alone. Plus Gabriel’s threat was always at the back of his mind gnawing at him. 

The good news is, Aziraphale never really wanted to sell things anyway, so it didn’t matter if Crowley did a piss poor job of it. 

Aziraphale had slipped into what humans would consider a coma that evening in Hyde Park. He still hadn’t woken up. The first few weeks Crowley was afraid Aziraphale would die, and not merely be discorporated. He had stayed by his side for over a month before he allowed himself a minute away. 

Now it was a little over 3 decades later, but Crowley still checked in every day, watched him, pretended to work the shop, even tried reading to Aziraphale in the evenings. 

But there had been no change. For better or worse. 

At least now though he didn’t need as much creativity when he asked someone to look in on Aziraphale when Crowley went off to take care of miracles or temptations. 

Crowley let himself in the shop with a sigh, removing his fur coat and hat. The smell of cigarette smoke still clung to his clothes as his heels clicked along the wood floor of the shop. It was perhaps a sin, feeling so at home in a temple to all things profane, but he’d been in America for three weeks, and he’d just finished reports to heaven and hell about the continued success of prohibition (temperance and rising crime pleased both sides), and it just felt good to be home. 

“Oh, Mrs. Fell,” the young nurse, Mary, called from the flat upstairs. “You’re home from your trip early!” 

“I am!” Crowley said with a smile. He quickly made his way up the stairs and into the bedroom he’d put Aziraphale in years ago. “How were things?” 

Mary sighed as she gathered up her things. “Same as always, Mrs. Fell,” she said with a sad smile. “No change in poor Mr. Fell at all. But I did change his clothes and bedsheets to keep things fresh in here. And I really liked reading to him, it’s good practice.” She rubbed the bump on her stomach thoughtfully. 

“I hope you weren’t lifting him all by yourself,” Crowley said with a frown. “No need to put a strain on yourself given your condition.” 

“It weren’t no trouble, Mrs. Fell, happy to help a man wounded in the war,” Mary insisted. “Besides, that’s something else I need practice with too isn’t it, changin' someone else’s clothes?” 

Crowley sighed gently. “I suppose.” He handed Mary a large amount of cash from her purse. “There you go dear, be sure to get home safely.” 

“Mrs. Fell, this is too much, far, far too much,” Mary said with a small shake of her head. “It’s more than my usual rate, and you even came home early.”

“Mr. Fell’s American business is doing quite well,” Crowley said with a smile. “And I appreciate your work.” Crowley’s eyes drifted over Mary. “Besides, Mr. Fell and I aren’t exactly in a position to start a family right now anyway. Need to celebrate those of us who are.” 

Mary gave Crowley a tearful nod and a thank you, then took her leave. 

Crowley sighed and sat on the edge of Aziraphale’s bed. He pushed Aziraphale’s curls away from his face with a small smile. He’d have to cut it again soon. The longer curls were fun to play with but Aziraphale always preferred tidier looks, on his body anyway. “I missed you angel,” he said gently before bending over and planting a gentle kiss to his forehead. “You’d love what’s happening in America right now. Well, your bosses do at any rate. You got quite an award.”

Crowley got up and began to putter around the flat the way he’d seen Aziraphale do countless times. Straightening things, but not too much. Then Crowley went up to the roof to check on his garden. It wasn’t much of anything, really, some vegetables and some flowers, but it occupied his time and he was far better at cajoling the plants into order than he was at not running the bookshop. As was Crowley’s weekly ritual he cut some fresh lavender and brought it down to Aziraphale’s bedroom. He’d always liked the smell and there were new studies suggesting smell and memory went hand in hand. 

After a while Crowley settled in on the comfy couch Aziraphale had bought for him way back when (Crowley had since moved it up to the bedroom, he felt weird sleeping in the same bed as Aziraphale in his state but he also wasn’t going to leave Aziraphale alone). Crowley watched Aziraphale as he put his hair up in a loose braid for the evening. While Crowley was itching to cut off his hair like some of the other daring women of the day, it would be just his luck that the minute the hair was gone Aziraphale would awaken and, no, he wouldn’t say anything, but life had changed so much while he was out, no point in making more changes than necessary. 

Crowley watched Aziraphale as his eyes slowly drifted shut, praying the same prayer he had every night, “Please come back to me soon angel, please.” 

Crowley awoke with a start when he heard a gasping from Aziraphale’s bed. He sprung into action and was at his side in an instant. Aziraphale was twisting and turning within the sheets and his breathing was ragged. 

This had never happened before. 

Crowley sprung into action, lunging onto the bed grabbing Aziraphale’s shoulders. He desperately tried to hold Aziraphale still and figure out just what was happening. 

Before Crowley could accomplish that Aziraphale’s eyes shot wide open and the demon gasped like he hadn’t breathed in centuries (he had been, Crowley checked, often). 

Aziraphale’s eyes instantly locked with Crowley’s, his blue eyes wide with panic and fear. However, the longer Aziraphale looked at Crowley the slower his breathing came until Crowley felt Aziraphale’s arms wrapping around him. 

“A-Aziraphale?” Crowley asked gently when he felt they might both be able to speak. 

Aziraphale’s hand trailed from Crowley’s back up to cup Crowley’s cheek. “I-I I’m not sure what to call you any more, my dear,” Aziraphale said, his voice was weak and scratchy.

“What are you talking about?” Crowley asked, his voice barely above a whisper. 

“I-I remember,” Aziraphale said gently. He moved himself further up the bed, forcing himself more upright. “We-We met in heaven, I was looking at Earth alone, you talked to me.” Aziraphale coughed, his throat sounding dry. “Sorry.” Crowley miracled a glass of water into his hand without even thinking about it. He pushed it into Aziraphale’s hands. “Thank you dear.” After Aziraphale drained the glass it vanished. 

“Better?” Crowley asked, still not quite believing what was happening. 

“Much,” Aziraphale looked at him with the warmest smile, after all this time without it, Crowley’s heart couldn’t quite take it, but he didn’t dare look away. Aziraphale’s heart rate and breathing seemed to settle to normal. “I remember,” he began again. “Our existence in heaven, you and I. What we were.” He laced his fingers with Crowley’s. 

“Aziraphale,” Crowley began cautiously, sliding closer to Aziraphale, if it were possible. “Tell me everything.” 

Aziraphale nodded. “You’re Raphael. Or were. I don’t know, it’s complicated,” Aziraphale gestured vaguely toward his head. Aziraphale’s eyes were distant, looking upward trying to recall. “Up here.” Aziraphale suddenly frowned, unsure of himself with a smile Crowley hadn’t seen in nearly six thousand years. “You-You’re still Raphael, correct? And they haven’t demoted you? Or made you-?” He stopped himself short, then shook his head confidently, some of his more confident, demonic self seemingly coming back to the forefront. “No, I’d know if you had.” Aziraphale frowned again, this time out of frustration. “Right? As a demon?” 

“I’d imagine, if you can sense other demons, you’d know if I was one by now,” Crowley said quietly, his own voice full of disbelief, or if not disbelief, a cautious curiosity. “And I’m still the angel you knew.” 

“And I was a Principality, I reported, ultimately, to you,” Aziraphale said with a nod. His free arm wrapped tightly around Crowley’s waist. “You and I-we.” He looked at Crowley’s face searchingly. “We were-” 

“We are,” Crowley insisted. 

Aziraphale smiled at Crowley with that gentle, starlight bright smile. “You’re here,” Aziraphale said his voice filled with adoration and words left unsaid. Here despite their old difference in rank, here after his fall, here after the things he’d done as a demon, here after it all. 

Tears had begun to prick at the corners of Crowley’s eyes. “Oh, Angel, where else would I be?” 

Aziraphale’s own eyes filled with tears as well, one even falling down his cheek. “I-I’m grateful,” Aziraphale said, resting his forehead against Crowley’s. Aziraphale opened his mouth to say more but his stomach gave an inhuman grumble. “Do you think we could continue this conversation over some dinner?” 

“Of course, Angel,” Crowley said with a gentle smile. Crowley forced Aziraphale to sit at the table while he prepared a quick meal over Aziraphale’s protests. (“It’s two in the morning, nothing’s open, and you’re sure as hell not cooking it yourself.”) 

Once Crowley had Azirapahle settled at the small table Crowley had added to the upstairs Aziraphale spoke up, “You’ve made yourself quite at home,” admiration tinged his voice. 

“Problem?” Crowley asked with a nervous smile, As he plated their dinner. 

“No, not at all,” Aziraphale said with a shake of his head. “In fact your dressing gown does the most interesting things when you stretch or bend over.” He sucked in a quick breath. “Sorry that’s not appropriate.” 

“It’s fine, Angel, you’ve done worse to me as a demon, remember?” Crowley said with a light chuckle. He brought over two plates of crepes to the table. “Besides you need to eat, you love to and it’s been nearly thirty years since you last ate.” He smirked. “Must be a record for you.” 

“Aziraphale blinked rapidly. “Thirty years?” He whispered. “I was out for thirty years?” 

“Yes,” Crowley whispered quietly. “I wasn’t sure what would happen to you for the longest time.” He drug the chair that sat opposite Aziraphale next to him and sat down so their sides were touching. “I didn’t want to lose you again.” 

“Oh, my dear,” Aziraphale said with a sigh. “That won’t happen.” He placed a hesitant kiss to Crowley’s shoulder. “I-I can’t believe, now that I remember everything, or near enough, that you’re here. With me. Still.” 

“Angel, we’ve had this conversation already tonight,” Crowley said gently. 

“But that’s just it,” Aziraphale said pulling back so he could look Crowley in the eye. “I’m not an angel anymore. And that’s what I don’t remember.”

_ Aziraphale ran up to Raphael, a small, excited smile lit up his face. His face was turning a light pink color like it did when he was being shy or embarrassed. It was quickly becoming one of Raphael’s favorite colors. “Hello,” Aziraphale said softly.  _

_ This time Raphael and Aziraphale had planned on meeting when they both had a moment away from their duties. This wasn’t the first time they’d met like this, and Raphael was beginning to realize it was becoming a regular ‘thing.’ “Hello, Aziraphale,” Raphael said with a smile. “What did you want to do today?”  _

_ “I’m not really sure,” Aziraphale admitted. “I just enjoy spending time with you.”  _

_ Raphael didn’t know his smile could get any wider, but it did. “We can’t both feel that way,” Raphael said teasingly. “One of us is gonna have to make a decision and I made it last time, Aziraphale.”  _

_ Aziraphale’s face turned an even darker shade of red, and yes, definitely Crowley’s favorite color now. “Raphael,” he whined gently. Raphael said nothing though, he wanted to make Aziraphale happy. Aziraphale let out a small sigh. “Could we go to Earth again?”  _

_ “Of course.” Raphael offered Aziraphale a hand and they took off flying together.  _

_ Raphael’s extra wings mean holding Aziraphale’s hand eliminated a lot of awkwardly speeding ahead of him as they had discovered some of the previous times they’d met. (Raphael was just grateful his speed hadn’t made Aziraphale like him less or leave.) That, and it gave him an excuse to touch Aziraphale.  _

_ Aziraphale gave him a fond squeeze of his hand, so hopefully Aziraphale liked the hand holding too.  _

_ They floated over some open plains where animals were grazing, and those were the only creatures around. Aziraphale liked privacy and Raphael was happy to provide it.  _

_ Raphael was nattering on about something, if asked later he won’t even be able to recall what it was because the important bit overwhelmed the other memories. “You see, angel that is why I think-“  _

_ “What did you say?” Aziraphale asked gently.  _

_ “Called you angel,” Raphael said with a shrug. “It’s a nickname. Pet name.”  _

_ “Yes,” Aziraphale said with a shy smile. “But- why?” Aziraphale looked everywhere but at Raphael just then.  _

_ “Do you not like it?” Raphael moved himself so he could take both of Aziraphale’s hands in his. “Because if you don’t like it, if there’s anything you don’t like just say the word and I’ll stop.”  _

_ “No, not it’s-it’s not that I don’t like it,” Aziraphale said, giving Raphael’s hands a gentle squeeze in return. “I - it’s just we’re both angels…” Aziraphale trailed off. “I’m not sure I’m making sense.” _

_ At once Aziraphale’s discomfort clicked into place in Raphael’s mind. “But you are, you’re the best, kindest, most beautiful angel she ever created,” he said softly, his body drifting closer to Aziraphale. “And no one is more worthy of that as a nickname than you.”  _

_ Aziraphale opened his mouth to say something but Raphael continued. “But if you don’t want me calling you a nickname I won’t.”  _

_ “You-“Aziraphale’s hands shifted nervously in Raphael’s, not pulling away, just fidgeting. “You really believe that?”  _

_ “I do.”  _

_ Raphael found himself tipping backwards as Aziraphale’s mouth crashed into his own. Just as quickly Aziraphale pulled back. “I-I’m sorry, I don’t know what-I’m sorry,” Aziraphale stuttered out.  _

_ Raphael’s mouth couldn’t form any words so he merely pulled Aziraphale in, slowly, for another kiss. Raphael gently pressed his lips against Aziraphale’s before he slowly moved his lips. The kiss was slow and cautious, but tender and filled with warmth and affection. Aziraphale’s hand came up and tangled in Raphael’s hair, tilting his head just so and -oh- that was interesting.  _

_ When they finally parted, after all sense of time had left them, Raphael smiled gently at Aziraphale, “See, nothing to apologize for, Angel.”  _

_ Aziraphale hid his pleased little smile in Raphael’s chest. “Can we do it some more then?”  _

“And, I suppose my dear, I’m left wondering,” Aziraphale said with a suddenly guarded, nervous look. “Why on earth you’d stay through all that.” 

Crowley draped one arm over the back of Aziraphale’s chair. “Because I told you once, I love you. And that is not going to change.” Crowley took a deep bracing breath. “Besides, I’ve never been convinced you deserved your fall, or at least, I don’t know all the details.” Crowley watched Aziraphale’s face carefully. “Do you remember that?”

Aziraphale’s brow furrowed in concentration. “No. The last thing I remember  _ before _ ,” he explained, “seems to be the last time you visited me on earth.” Aziraphale huffed out a small laugh. “Surprise inspection my arse, by the way.” 

“You loved it,” Crowley protested. 

“I did,” Aziraphale said with a bushing, pleased smile. His smile faded and his eyes took on a hazy, far away look. “And then the next thing I remember was Dagon shouting at everyone including me, because she had no idea how I got down there. Dagon’s not a fan of surprises.” 

Crowley frowned and leaned closer to Aziraphale. “I’m so sorry,” Crowley whispered. 

“It’s obviously not your fault,” Aziraphale insisted. 

As Aziraphale slowly ate his dinner, Crowley attempted to catch Aziraphale on everything that had happened while he was out. The turn of the century and the Return of Sherlock Holmes (“No, I didn’t use a miracle, Doyle did it on his own, I swear!” “Right.” “It’s true!”). The Great War (“You were given a commendation.” “ _ Lovely _ .”). And the most recent decade. (“They  _ banned _ alcohol,  _ in America _ ?” “Angel, I’m surprised as you are.”). 

“Been a busy time then,” Aziraphale said as he held Crowley on his lap now. Whether Crowley had climbed up there himself or Aziraphale had pulled him there, neither could say. All that was certain was Crowley’s silk dressing gown had fallen open revealing a somewhat scandalous night gown. “And a lot has changed.” 

“You could say that again,” Crowley said with a heavy sigh. 

“And you’ve been doing both of our jobs?” Aziraphale looked up at Crowley amazed. “While looking over me and my shop.” 

“It’s nothing.” Crowley shrugged. “You’d have done the same for me.” 

“I’m still grateful,” Aziraphale whispered. His hands cradled Crowley’s hips gently. “And I-” He sighed as he rested his forehead against Crowley’s shoulder. “I know I shouldn’t say it,” he looked up at his face, desperate and longing. “But you must know my feelings for you, how I felt about you in heaven.” The hand not supporting Crowley’s waist cupped his face, practically clinging to him. “Those feelings haven’t changed. At all. If anything, they’ve grown stronger.” 

Crowley gave him a soft, watery smile “Oh I know, Aziraphale. I never doubted it.” 

Aziraphale pulled him in for a kiss then. Their lips desperately crashed together. It isn’t an artful kiss, but its all the love and reassurance they can give each other. Aziraphale’s fingers tangled in Crowley’s hair. Crowley twisted around so he was straddling Aziraphale. 

Crowley deepened the kiss, his tongue dipping into Aziraphale’s mouth. Doubt that Aziraphale was up for this just yet niggled at the back of his mind but when Aziraphale’s hips rocked a quickly stiffening effort into Crowley’s, it hardly seemed like the demon cared. 

Before Crowley could fully register what was happening Crowely found his dressing gown pushed open and his night gown pushed up. Aziraphale’s hands were squeezing and caressing his hips. “Oh, oh, my dear,” Aziraphale whispered, burying himself between crowley’s breasts.

Crowley held Aziraphale’s just there. Aziraphale’s mouth latched on Crowley’s prominent collar bone. He rocked up into him, his blue eyes watching his face intently. “A-Aziraphale,” Crowley panted into his hair. In a thought Aziraphale’s pajama bottoms were gone as were Crowley’s knickers. Aziraphale’s cock slowly traced Crowley’s warm center. 

“Still don’t know what to call you,” Aziraphale said pulling Crowley’s face down for a frantic kiss.Aziraphale’s hips rolled, each rock forward bringing his head closer to pushing into Crowley’s waiting cunt. 

With a roll of his own Crowley sank down, taking Aziraphale to the hilt. “Crowley, R-whatever,” he panted, then planted a firm kiss on Aziraphale’s lips. “Doesn’t matter.” Another kiss. “I’m yours.” 

The pair quickly reached their peaks, they’d spent too much time apart to take it slow. Aziraphale, with Crowley’s name on his lips. 

  
  


Michael strode purposefully across down the street. The perfect speed not to look out of place, but to also not be seen for too long, entirely invisible and perfectly human. SO she hoped anyway. Her gaze flicked around at the buildings. She knew Crowley had written he’d moved to London “to combat the obvious lust in the area” but she honestly thought it was another one of his jokes. Judging by the shops in the area he was not. 

However, Michael was not as invisible as she’d hoped, judging by the fact that a woman with short, spiked brown hair in a leather jacket was watching her intently out of the corner of her eye while they stopped waiting for the crosswalk. Michael watched her as well, not sure if this was the punk fashions or a demon in disguise. The woman was tall, with eyes the color of grass that Michael felt herself admiring in spite of herself. A job well done should be admired, whether by the almighty or a worthy adversary. After crossing the road the woman smiled and offered Michael a card. When Michael stopped to look at it she only found a name, a string of numbers and the letter x. 

Michael’s face suddenly became so warm she wasn’t sure there might not be a demon around. 

After continuing up the road she finally came across the address Crowley was living at. Not the address he had on file in heaven, the address he spent the most time at. 

Michael mentally and spiritually braced herself as she completed the walk up to the door to the bookshop, expecting to be knocked over by the levels of sin coming from a Demon’s lair. So she was quite shocked when the shop felt just like the rest of the city, neither particularly sinful or divine. 

Michael opened the door, hearing a small bell ring as she entered. 

“I’m afraid we’re” Aziraphale cut himself off as he rounded the corner and came into view. He froze mid step, though his eyes darted from Michael, to a paddle on a shelf not far from where he stood, back to Micahel. 

“Hello Aziraphale,” Michael said trying to keep her voice warm, well, warm for her. “You’re looking…well?” 

“If you’ve come to hurt Crowley, I’m afraid I can’t let that happen,” Aziraphale said, his voice carrying absolutely none of the warmth she’d known him to have in heaven. “And that includes hurting me to hurt him.” 

“I don’t want to hurt either of you,” Michael insisted. She slowly raised her hands like she’d observed humans do when they meant no harm. 

Aziraphale took a step forward with a skeptical, wide eyed nod. “Right, I’m sure that’s what they told Crowley right before they kicked his arse.” 

“What are you talking about?” Michael asked with a frown. She fought her instinct to mirror Aziraphale and take a step forward herself, to challenge him. “Who are they?” 

“The last Archangels that came down here to talk to Crowley,” Aziraphale said with another step forward. Michael suddenly remembered why Aziraphale had been assigned to the eastern gate. She didn’t want to have to kill him if they fought. “Did you not know what Gabriel and Sandalphon did?” 

“Nothing anyone told me about, including Crowley ,” Michael replied. 

“That seems convenient for you.” 

“Angel, who are you talking to?” Crowley asked as he casually strode into the front of the shop. His golden eyes locked on her, a smile briefly crossing his face before rolling his eyes dramatically. “Ugh, Michael, what do you want? Please tell me its clothing advice because no one is wearing spats any more, not even Aziraphale. And he’s never been the same since the 1890’s.” 

“Right now? I just want your boyfriend to stand down,” Michael snipped back. “I don’t want to fight or have to explain any unplanned for combat or discorporations.” 

“Aziraphale, angel,” Crowley said, practically slithering across the floor to Aziraphale. “Michael’s a friend, you remember that, yes?” Aziraphale nodded slowly, never breaking eye contact. “She’s a friend. Still on our side.” Aziraphale reluctantly accepted Crowley’s assurance and visibly relaxed somewhat. “Now, what do you want Michael? Really want?” 

Michael smiled, triumphant. “A great deal, to know where the hell you’ve been for ninety years; to know why the hell you’ve shacked up with a demon, to know what you’ve done with your hair.” 

“It’s called feathered and its all the rage,” Crowley said with a shrug. “Thought it was ironic.” 

“It’s ridiculous,” Michael insisted. 

“This entire decade is ridiculous, have your lot seen what these humans are doing about this pandemic?” Aziraphale asked indignant. 

Michael sighed mournfully and looked away. Heaven had not deigned to intervene, Sandalphon had cited other non interventions. The only reply she could offer only changed the subject, “I have the file.” 

Crowley straightened up, suddenly becoming alert. “The file?” 

“What file?” Aziraphale asked confused. 

Michael smiled. “Yours.” 

The three quickly settled themselves at the small table in the upstairs kitchen. Crowley and Aziraphale both with a glass of wine in front of them, Michael having declined. (She’d also had to make her own chair. “If you’re living together, here in this temple to fornication, I don’t trust a single horizontal surface.” “You probably shouldn’t trust any of the vertical ones either.” “Oh come now, dear.”) She laid the folder in front of them. “There’s more here than I expected,” she explained. While heavenly files were not necessarily physical they were metaphysical and there was something about this file in particular that felt like there was more somehow. “It’s strange,” she admitted. “I don’t remember it being like this when it was filed away after-” her throat closed itself to prevent the word ‘your’ from escaping her lips, “the trial.” She cleared her throat. “How do you put up with that?” Michael asked turning to Crowley. 

“Patience and lot of shouting, ‘fuck you, Gabriel’” Crowley replied with a smirk. “Which I say every day, just to make sure I still can.” 

Michael didn’t dignify that with a response. “Are we ready then?” Both Crowley and Michael turned to Aziraphale, who looked somewhat pale. Aziraphale reached out to Crowley silently, taking his hand and giving it a loving squeeze. The demon nodded at her and the file opened. 

  
  
  


Aziraphale stood on the edge of the wall, watching Adam and Eve march toward the horizon alone. Adam and Eve had eaten of the fruit though Aziraphale wasn’t really sure on the details as to the whys and wherefores. The most Aziraphale knew was Adam gratefully took his sword when he’d offered it and neither of them asked further questions. 

Questions were more Raphael’s department and Aziraphale was already forming a list of things to talk about with him once he got back, today’s events would certainly take Raphael’s interest. His face twitched into a small smile at the thought of Raphael. How had he been so blessed to have Raphael as a partner. It was still a shock to him some days. But he was grateful. 

Aziraphale felt a change in the air. A miracle. Not one of his. Aziraphale’s heart fluttered hoping it was Raphael. Another surprise inspection or urgent orders or whatever else he could come up with. But the air didn’t feel like Raphael. And that was worrying to Aziraphale. 

Aziraphale turned toward the miracle and nearly discorporated on the spot. Gabriel and Sandalphon were walking toward him. Him. Some of Raphael’s more colorful language floated through his mind. He swallowed nervously. “Gabriel, Sandalphon,” he said with a nervous smile. “Your graces, what can I do for you today?” 

“Hopefully a great deal,” Gabriel said with an incredibly wide grin. His smile seemed sinister to Aziraphale somehow though he couldn’t put his finger on why. Aziraphale smiled back though he was sure it was more of a nervous reaction than anything else. His eyes flitted over to Sandalphon, who was giving him a flat look. Aziraphale looked away from that quickly. 

“I will certainly try to be of assistance,” Azirphale said with a smile as his fingers twisted together nervously. 

“What can you tell us about Raphael?” Sandalphon asked. 

Aziraphale looked between them quickly. “I-I-“ Aziraphale twisted the ring on his pinkie, a gift from Raphael. “I’m not sure what you want to know.” He swallowed nervously. “Certainly you know him well, given your work.” 

Gabriel’s smile twitched to a frown but it was for a fraction of a second, if Aziraphale had blinked he’d have missed it. “Yes, we know him,” Gabriel said his voice full of forced cheer. “Of course we do.”

“But you  _ know _ him,” Sandalphon said with a smirk. 

Aziraphale glances quickly between the two archangels. “I-well,” he stumbled. It’s not as if Raphael and he were hiding their relationship so to speak, but they hadn’t exactly spread the word far and wide. Aziraphale was shy and Raphael couldn’t appear to have favorites. But on the other hand perhaps they knew Raphael intended to formally request permission to have children at the next council meeting. “Well, yes, we are very much in love,” Aziraphale said in a rush with a smile he couldn’t contain. “But I’m not sure what that has to do with anything.” 

Gabriel took a step forward. He frowned sympathetically at Aziraphale. “I’m afraid we have some bad news,” he began. 

“Has something happened to Raphael?” Aziraphale felt his chest tightened. “Is he alright?” 

Gabriel smiled at him. “That’s what we’re here to find out.” 

Aziraphale’s smile faltered. “I’m not sure what you mean,” He replied. Both Gabriel and Sandalphon had taken several steps towards him and he was beginning to feel a bit claustrophobic. He took a step back, trying to give himself some space. 

Gabriel took another step forward anyway. “Aziraphale, we have reason to believe Raphael maybe conspiring with the fallen,” Gabriel said with suddenly serious air about him. 

“Raphael would never,” Aziraphale snapped back. Aziraphale had absolute faith in that. 

Gabriel frowned in sympathy, though the frown seemed just a fraction too deep. “Aziraphale,” he tutted. “You know, likely better than anyone left in Her grace, how close he was to the traitors, how many questions he asks.”

Aziraphale swallowed. There was no denying that. “But he didn’t join them,” he said, lifting his chin slightly. “He fought for Her. The Almighty didn’t cast him out.” 

“Not yet.” Gabriel sighed. “But you can not deny he was close with many of them.”

Aziraphale chose his next words with care. “Close doesn’t mean he agreed with them. He just loved them as he loves all of her creations.” 

Sandalphon huffed dramatically. “I told you this would go nowhere.” Aziraphale turned toward Sandalphon who was filled with rage. “This worthless principality-” 

“Now, now Sandalphon,” Gabriel said, clicking his tongue. “I think we need to spell this out more clearly for Aziraphale here, get him up to speed.” 

A distinctly Raphael sounding voice rose up in Aziraphale then, urging him to tell both Gabriel and Sandalphon to piss off. However Aziraphale also had a sense of self-preservation left and said nothing. 

Apparently Aziraphale’s silence was all the opening Gabriel needed to continue. “Aziraphale, let me let you in on a little secret, some council business.” Gabriel placed his hand on Aziraphale’s shoulder and gave Aziraphale a smile that seemingly never touched his eyes. “The council of Archangels is a bit stuck right now. You see, there’s Her plan, over here.” Gabriel held up his right hand. “And then there’s Raphael and his ideas way over here.” Gabriel held up his left hand. “The problem is obvious.”He clapped his hands together. “Nothing moves forward, he’s holding Her plans back.” 

Aziraphale shifted on his feet uncomfortably. “That’s not how Raphael would describe it,” he said gently. “He sees it more as a difference in opinion.” 

Gabriel’s smile fell instantly, looking more thunderous than the sky had earlier that day. 

“Told you,” Sandalphon said, his voice sounding far too smug. “I’m frankly surprised he was assigned this role from the Almighty, he doesn’t seem worthy.” 

“I know, I can’t believe the almighty gave you a flaming sword.” Gabriel’s face lit up with realization and Aziraphale’s fell. It would be his luck they’d bring that up. “Aziraphale,” Gabriel began, slowly closing in on him. “Where is your flaming sword?” 

Aziraphale swallowed nervously. “It-It’s around here,” Aziraphale said with a gentle smile. It had worked for the Almighty. “I just had it.” 

There was a sound in the distance. Was it another lion? Aziraphale didn’t dare look. It didn’t matter. Judging from the realization dawning on Sandalphon and Gabriel’s faces. “You gave away your sword?” Sandalphon asked, his voice filled with disgust. 

“It's dangerous out there. we’re supposed to protect humanity, even through their failings,” Aziraphale protested despite knowing his words wouldn’t affect them. “She’s expecting.” 

“Did Raphael tell you to do this?” Sandalphon asked. 

“What?” Aziraphale asked, shocked. “No! No he would never.” 

“It doesn’t matter,” Gabriel said definitively. “We may not be able to get rid of Raphael directly, but I imagine having his love taken from him will keep him out of the way just as effectively.” Gabriel moved to stand directly in front of Aziraphale, and Aziraphale sensed Sandalphon coming up behind him. “Unless you tell us Raphael ordered this, or he’s conspiring against her.” Gabriel crowded into Aziraphale’s personal space. “Because either you did, or he did.” 

Aziraphale raised his chin. “I would never lie, never say Raphael did what you’re implying. I’d rather fall.” 

“Don’t worry,” Gabriel said with a smirk. “We’ll make sure that happens.” 

  
  
  
  


Aziraphale’s mind was pulled from the magic of the file, his head spinning in an absolute daze. The memories felt familiar, but he wasn’t sure if that was because this was triggering memories, like hearing Crowley’s true name had or if he merely recognized himself and agreed with his actions. 

One thing Aziraphale was certain of was the hand that held Crowley’s was shaking. And burning. Aziraphale turned to Crowley. His face was contorted into absolute fury. Light was streaming out his eyes and more and more eyes appeared by the second, his true form leaking out. 

“Crowley, stop this,” Michael said sternly. Aziraphale had almost forgotten she was there. 

All of Crowley’s eyes snapped toward her, magic started to swirl around the room, throwing paper and plant leaves everywhere. “Did you know?” His voice echoed sounding like a dozen voices at once. 

“What?” Michael shouted over the noise. 

“Did you know who he gave the sword to?” Crowley stood up abruptly, his chair falling to the ground.The hand that Crowley held was growing hotter by the second. 

“NO!” Michael shouted over the roar of Crowley’s powers. “Of course not, we weren’t told-.” Her throat closed of sharply. She began to cough. “No. We weren’t told.” 

“Really?” Crowley asked with a snarl. 

“Yes,” Aziraphale said cutting back into the conversation. He stood between Crowley in Michael, his free hand reaching out gently, like one might use to calm a farm animal, which thankfully Aziraphale hadn’t had to do in centuries. “Crowley, love, I remember now.” All of Crowley’s eyes focused on him, and they began to disappear. “Gabriel let them think I had given it to a demon, he didn’t tell the full truth, let them fill in the gaps with speculation he would neither confirm nor deny. You know how he is.” Crowley’s form shifted back to mostly human now and Aziraphale rested his hand on Crowley’s chest, above his heart. “There you are,” he said gently. “My dear.” 

“How the hell can you be so calm about this?” Crowley asked with a shake of his head, the last of his extra eyes disappearing. 

Aziraphale sighed and smiled at Crowley softly. He took a step forward and then Crowley dragged him another step forward, bringing them chest to chest. Crowley’s terrible posture made them almost the same height, making it easier for Aziraphale to look him in the eye. “Because I made a decision and knowing what I do now, I don’t regret it.” 

“You can’t say that,” Crowley said, his voice suddenly thick with emotion. His golden eyes were filling with tears. His free hand cupped the back of Aziraphale’s head. “You can’t.” 

“I can and I would do it again,” Aziraphale insisted. 

“Michael, could you give us a moment?” Crowley asked through gritted teeth. 

“I’ll just be down stairs,” Michael said, making herself scarce. 

“It should have been me,” Crowley was whispering now, his tears flowing freely. “I-I deserved this so much more than you.” 

“Crowley-“ 

“No, no I did. I do.” Crowley sighed, holding Aziraphale tighter. “I  _ was _ close to Morning Star and the others. There are still things they said back then I still agree with. I do go against Gabriel all the time. I find doing your job far, far too easy for any self-respecting Angel.” He held Aziraphale’s face in his hands. “I deserved to fall. You should be the angel, not me.” 

“Crowley,” Aziraphale said, more firmly this time. “Listen to me.” He smiled gently at Crowley. “You love me and you’d do the same for me as I’ve done for you. That’s that.” 

Crowley sighed and collapsed against Aziraphale’s shoulder. “It’s not fair,” he sobbed weakly, tears flowing freely now. “They shouldn’t have done that to you. It’s my fault. They only went after you because of me.” 

“I made my decision,” Aziraphale insisted. “There’s nothing to be done now.” 

“I-I should be the one comforting you,” Crowley sobbed. “I can’t even get that right.” 

“Darling, it’s alright. I’m alright,” Aziraphale said, shushing him. “We’re alright.” 

Crowley clung to Aziraphale tightly, sobs overtaking him. 

The next morning they regrouped in the kitchen. Crowley looked miserable and sat with his side pressed against Aziraphale. 

“What on earth do we do now?” Aziraphale said sipping at coffee with Irish cream in it. 

“I didn’t know.” Michael said with a sigh. Crowleys gaze flicked back over to her, less anger directed at her than there had been yesterday, but he was still a mess of emotions. “Gabriel and Sandalphon lied and manipulated the council. They must be stopped.”

“Obviously,” Aziraphale said with a nod. “That would be the good thing to do. The right thing to do”

Michael, to Aziraphale’s surprise, (6000 human years of being a demon will change a person’s perspective, despite angelic memories) nodded in agreement. “This was an injustice. It’s against everything we stand for.” She pursed her lips. “However when we present this to the council-” 

“There’s no however, we can’t go up there,” Crowley said leaning forward in his chair. He refused to look at either Michael or Aziraphale. “Gabriel and his block control a majority of the council and a majority of heavenly forces.” 

“Uriel would-” 

“I don’t care what Uriel would do, I won’t be a part of it,” Crowley shouted. He pushed himself up and away from the table, beginning to pace. He ran his fingers through his hair and hissed in agitation. “I can’t. I can’t risk- I can’t.” 

“Can’t what?” Michael asked not unkindly. 

“Crowley.” Aziraphale watched the demon with a sympathetic look. “Love, what’s wrong?” 

“I can’t let Gabriel hurt you, not again,” Crowley said with a shake of his head. “I can’t.” 

“Crowley,” Michael began. 

“YOu weren’t there, Michael,” Crowley shouted. “You didn’t hear him and Sandalphon threaten Aziraphale, again, still.” Crowley shook his head and paced around the kitchen. “I can’t do that. I won’t.” 

“I’m quite sure that’s my choice,” Aziraphale said calmly. 

“Angel, angel,” Crowley knelt in front of Aziraphale. “I can’t lose you again. Please. I can’t. I won’t.” He grabbed Aziraphale’s hands and held them between his own. “Not unless I know you’re safe. 

“What if we could?” Michael asked softly. “It might take some time, like getting the file. But if there was a way.” 

“There’s a snowball’s chance in hell of that,” Crowley said with a snort, but not pulling away from Aziraphale’s embrace. 

“But if we could, we should,” Aziraphale said gently. “Would you, for me?” 

Crowley scowled but his head fell forward. “Yeah, if we can.” He shrugged. “But not until we can ensure your safety. I can’t let you get hurt. Not ever again.” 

Crowley went back to bed shortly after that. Aziraphale walked Michael to the door. “He doesn’t mean it,” Michael said with a sigh. 

“No,” Aziraphale agreed. “He might, with time, but right now, he’s terrified. Give me time, I’ll work on it.”

“Thank you,” Michael said with a small smile. They were at the front of the shop, Michael purposely not looking at anything. “And Aziraphale?” 

Aziraphale’s hand looked up at her, his expression blank. 

“For what it’s worth, I’m sorry,” Michael swallowed and forced herself to meet his gaze. “For everything.” Aziraphale opened his mouth but she continued. “And yes, I do need to apologize. I’ve been a coward and cruel and I’m sorry.” 

“I forgive you.” 

  
  
  
  


Crowley considered it a good day. He’d woken up shortly before Aziraphale had gotten out of bed. And he’d even followed Aziraphale out into the kitchen five minutes later. Aziraphale had smiled at him when he saw him in the kitchen doorway and brought him coffee with a kiss to his cheek. 

Crowley sat at the table while Aziraphale made himself breakfast. The plate was piled high with french toast and sausages and there were eggs. Aziraphale would offer him bites occasionally. Crowley accepted the first because it seemed like a good idea. And when that made Aziraphale smile, he took a few more bites. 

When Aziraphale went down to the shop Crowley followed. He was tired though so when the demon went into the front of the shop, he settled himself onto the couch in the back room. Aziraphale kept blankets and pillows there, plus a charger for his laptop.When Crowley wasn’t sleeping he usually goofed around on that, waiting for Aziraphale to come back. 

Crowley didn’t remember falling asleep, but he woke up to Aziraphale making himself a cocoa. Miraculously there was enough for a second cup, which he put on the table next to the sofa, should Crowley want it. 

Crowley pulled himself into a sitting position, or close enough, so he could sip the hot chocolate and watch over Aziraphale in the shop. He didn’t like that he had no energy to truly watch Aziraphale, but this was better than leaving him completely unguarded. 

He’d once slept for three days in a row. That was a mistake he couldn’t afford to make again. Aziraphale had told him at the time it wasn’t necessary. But Crowley still didn’t allow it to happen again. 

Because what was there to do if he wasn’t keeping Aziraphale safe? Why get out of bed? 

  
  


_ Raphael stepped into the chamber that hadn’t been used since Michael cast out Lucifer. It had been an emotionally taxing day. And this time he entered with even more fraught emotions.Sandalphon was circling Aziraphale, who was in the center of the room, his hands and wings bound.  _

_ Raphael stopped time and removed his hand from Michael’s. He didn’t do it often and he couldn’t hold it for long, not around all the other angels. He pushed past Gabriel and Sandalphon, coming to face Aziraphale. Who smiled sadly at him. “I’m so sorry, my dear,” Aziraphale sighed.  _

_ “Aziraphale,” Raphael said fighting back tears. “What-What happened?”  _

_ Aziraphale shook his head. “There’s not enough time, love.”  _

_ “But this isn’t right-You would never go against Her,” Raphael nodded his head. “I know you. This isn’t like you.”  _

_ Aziraphale smiled softly at him. “Darling, what’s happened has happened, to try and change it now would put you in danger.” Aziraphale’s eyes watered. “Its alright. Just know I love you. And that I don’t regret a thing alright?”  _

_ “This was Gabriel and Sandalphon’s doing, isn’t it?” Raphael asked frowning. “They’ve done something to you haven’t they?” Sweat was dripping from his brow now. The effort to maintain the pause was overwhelming. He prayed Aziraphale didn’t notice.  _

_ “Raphael, there’s no time,” Aziraphale insisted. “Please just kiss me one last time.”  _

_ Raphael cupped Aziraphale’s face, both of them openly crying now. “I love you, Aziraphale. No matter where you are. I’ll-I’ll remember you. And I’ll be grateful for our time together.”  _

_ “Raphael,” Aziraphale said, his voice was shaking. “I have been so blessed to love you and be loved by you. I am so grateful for the time we’ve had and I do not regret one thing.” Raphael surged forward then, pressing his lips against Aziraphale’s. Their kiss was both hard and tender, containing all the emotions they needed to convey.  _

_ When Raphael felt light headed Aziraphale broke off the kiss. Raphael ran his fingers through Aziraphale’s curls one last time then returned to Michael’s side. Time began again.  _

_ Michael was holding his hand. Raphael felt a little bad as he sure he was crushing her offered hand, but it was the only way he could keep himself for reaching out again.  _

_ Even though it hurt Raphael he kept his eyes locked with Aziraphale’s. He didn’t know who the look was supposed to comfort; himself or Aziraphale.  _

_ First Sandalphon forced Aziraphale to kneel. Then Gabriel stepped forward. He placed hands on either side of Aziraphale’s. There was a flash of lightning and Aziraphale was crying out. Gabriel kept his hands on Aziraphale’s head until the principality went limp then Gabriel walked over and washed his hands in Holy water and nodded at Sandalphon. .  _

_ When Aziraphale lifted his eyes his expression was confused and blank. Sandalphon then produced a flaming whip. With every crack of the whip Aziraphale’s feathers burned. His back writhed. With every cry Aziaphale let out Raphael wanted, desperately to look away. But he owed it to Aziraphale to be there for him. To watch him Fall.  _

“Dear? Are you awake?” Aziraphale called from around a corner. Crowley could see Aziraphale through a shelf. Aziraphale had gotten new shelves they’d picked out at IKEA, to replace the ones he’d had since the shop opened. 

“Need something Angel?” Crowley said sitting himself up more. 

“Oh good, you’re awake,” Aziraphale said, Crowley could hear a smile in his voice. “I say, I need help putting something on a high shelf. A customer got far too close to buying it today.” He ended with a small laugh. 

“Be right there,” Crowley said. He shuffled into the shop to where Aziraphale was. 

Aziraphale handed him the book in question. An 1883 English Translation of  _ The Kamasutra _ . Crowley had gotten for him as a gift when it was first published. As a thank you Aziraphale let him demonstrate many of the positions with him. “Put it on the top shelf, love? Behind the divider so it can’t be seen from the door?” 

Crowley smiled. “Of course, happy too.” He put the book exactly where Aziraphale asked. 

Aziraphale gave him a quick kiss as thanks and looked ready to say something, but the shop phone rang. Aziraphale had a mobile, but only Crowley had the number. 

“I’m terribly sorry, we’re closed currently,” Aziraphale began, smiling at Crowley while he spoke into the phone. Aziraphale’s face fell slightly and rolled his eyes. It must be hell, given Aziraphale wasn’t trying to get the other party off the line as quickly as possible. 

Hell, Crowley could handle. Crowley had protections against hell and Aziraphale had been claiming credit for the War on Terror (despite not having a thing to do with it) so Hell had no reason to wish to hurt him. He took a deep breath, urging the heart he didn’t need to slow down, back to a healthy rate. 

Aziraphale finished the call with an apologetic look about him. “I’m so sorry, my dear,” Aziraphale began as he walked forward. 

“Duty calls,” Crowley said with a smirk. 

Aziraphale laughed softly at that. “That shouldn’t be funny,” he said. “Tell you what, I’ll pick up that movie you wanted to see on the way home. Metal Man was it?” 

Crowley smiled, a real true smile. “Iron Man.” 

“Yes, that’s the one,” Aziraphale said giving him another kiss on his cheek as he slid into his black coat. “I’ll do a quick check in with the forces of Hell and then we’ll have a movie night in. Sounds tickety-boo.” 

“Tickety-boo?” Crowley asked with with a odd mix of both a frown and a fond smile. 

Ordinarily, Crowley drove Aziraphale everywhere, but for obvious reasons, meetings with hell were an exception. 

Instead, Crowley puttered around the back room of the shop. He checked the news on his laptop. He might try a miracle today. Try being the operative word unfortunately. His magic had been somewhat weaker since Michael’s visit 30 years ago. He knew the cause, though He never told Aziraphale. 

How could he spread God’s light and love when he felt like a void of emotion. 

Aziraphale had stayed by him throughout it, much to Crowley’s surprise. He didn’t feel worthy of Aziraphale’s love more days than not. And Aziraphale had happily taken over Crowley’s job. Crowley had protested at first, but Aziraphale had told him it was fine (“After all, love, you did mine for thirty years.”). Crowley figured he had about ten years to get himself together before he’d officially be asking too much of Aziraphale. And he was trying. Truly. 

Crowley thought of Aziraphale trying to pick up a copy of Iron Man and winced. Aziraphale wasn’t useless with technology. But he also wasn’t fully up to date either (“I just don’t see how DVD’s are any different from Laser Discs. It’s the same technology!”). Crowley wasn’t stupid, Aziraphale let him be the tech expert because it was something Crowley still enjoyed. He loved Aziraphale for that. Crowley decided he wanted to do something for Aziraphale while he was gone on demon business. He’d had enough energy to go out and pick up Aziraphale’s favorite sushi. And the evening air had been good for him. Aziraphale had been gone for a bit longer than Crowley thought he should be for a standard check in with the bosses but Crowley wasn’t worried. Aziraphale may have missed a bus or his taxi gotten stuck in some traffic. That had happened before and he’d been fine. He’d remember his phone and either call or text him any minute now. 

As Crowley finished setting the table and arranging the flowers in the vase in the center when he felt his phone in his pocket vibrate. 

_ Angel _ the screen read. He jammed the answer button. “Hey, everything alright?” 

“No” was Aziraphale’s reply, he was breathing heavily and his voice was quiet. “We’ve run out of time.” 

Crowley’s heart fell into the floor. “What do you mean? Are you alright? Are you hurt?” Crowley miracled shoes onto his feet and keys into his hand. If not for the adrenaline coursing through his system that probably would have worn him out. “I’ll find you.” 

  
“No, no I’m alright,” Azirphale said. “Really, Crowley  _ I _ am fine. I just dropped of the Antichrist at a Satanic hospital.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry for the delay in this chapter. THis week has been a really terrible one and I genuinely just forgot to post. I'm working on chapter 7 but I'm also working on school, work and Nano so chapters might come slowly but they will come! I promise. 
> 
> If you wanna be NaNoWriMo Friends my name is Yarsian. And don't worry, I'm writing GO fanfic for Nano! :)


	7. Heaven's Unearthly Estate

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Armageddon is at hand. How do Our angel and demon handle this?
> 
> This chapter beta-d and edited by @IsleofSolitude

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> There are mild mentions of LGBT phobic behavior from Mr. Dowling in this chapter. The way falling is discussed feels like a discussion of death/suicide. Please read at your own risk. These both take place in the second section of this chapter.

Chapter 7 Heaven’s Unearthly Estate

Aziraphale hadn’t meant to burden Crowley with the end of the world. Truly. Literally put the world on his shoulders. Crowley hadn’t been the same since the meeting with Michael in the 80’s. He’d entered a dark mood then. Eventually Aziraphale realized it was some sort of celestial anxiety and depression and had been doing research ever since. Supporting Crowley. Being patient with him on bad days while also encouraging him on good days. It wasn’t a straight or smooth path but Aziraphale felt like they had been getting somewhere recently. So naturally, as their luck seemed to always have it, that’s when Satan decided to put his big hoof into it. And of course He’d gone and called Crowley in a daze after he’d done his duty. 

It felt dishonest not to tell Crowley. He should have fair warning. He didn’t always tell him the full truth about everything, but the Apocalypse was certainly something else. It would only be right, really, lest Michael come down and tell him first. No, he’d made the right decision, the best of a bad bunch. 

As Azraphale walked up to the shop, their home, all these mixed emotions bubbled beneath the surface. If there was some way he could spare Crowley this, he would. Aziraphale had to have faith there was a way through. At least a way for Crowley to be happy and whole. 

Aziraphale ascended the stairs to the door, and took one last deep breath before entering. He braced himself and made himself strong enough for him and Crowley. It was the least he could do, carry both of them through these last eleven years together. 

**  
  
**

_ About six thousand years ago, Aziraphale had woken up in hell alone and confused. Which isn’t the worst way to wake up in hell in hindsight, but at the time it was the worst thing Aziraphale could remember. It was the only thing he could remember.  _

_ After some shouting, punching, and near discorporation on Aziraphale’s part, Lord Dagon and Duke Hastur had drug Aziraphale before Lucifer himself and thrown him to his mercy. The confused stares at Aziraphale’s naked form from all levels of hell had made him self conscious. But by the end of the third hour of shouting, of “Where did he come from?” and “What do we do with him?” and “Why does he smell funny?” Aziraphale had been remanded to a cell because in the immortal and eternal words of their infernal king “I don’t know what the fuck else to do with him.”  _

_ Time flew in the pit and the less Aziraphale lingered on the torture the better. It was freezing cold and boiling heat. It was darkness you couldn’t see through and the brightest light to prevent your rest. It was everything and nothing. It was Hell. It was designed to break the most prideful human and the most damned demon, even if it took thousands of years. By the end of your time there most willingly extinguished any light left in their souls in exchange for freedom. He personally didn’t feel like he had been there particularly long, he still had a strange light feeling in his chest, before he was dragged once again before the king.  _

_ In fact, Aziraphale felt, well, he felt a little funny. There was a little spark deep down in him, he couldn’t quite access it, but it was there. He just hoped he could hide it til he figured out what it was. For some reason hiding it seemed like a good idea. All he had was his instincts and he had to trust them. _

_ “They tell me you’re called Aziraphale,” Lucifer said, slouching in his throne.  _

_ Aziraphale swallowed for lack of anything else to do. He was still naked but at least he’d gotten rid of his effort for a bit.  _

_ “Speak you blessed fool,” Duke Hastur had shouted at him, causing Aziraphale to jump.  _

_ “I-I wouldn’t know what i was called,” Aziraphale, he guessed he was Aziraphale, it sounded right anway, he said. “I-I don’t remember.”  _

_ Lucifer leaned forward in his throne and more confused murmurs echoed through the chamber. “You don't remember?”  _

_ Aziraphale shook his head.  _

_ “You don’t remember your name?” Duke Ligur said. He didn’t seem angry like the others. Perhaps confused. There were more confused looks shared around the room. “Fuckin heaven.” _

_ “What could you have done to piss them off so much you don’t remember who you are?” Dagon asked this time. She had a clipboard in front of her taking notes.  _

_ Aziraphale shrugged. “Must have been something bad.”  _

_ Much to his shock there were approving nods around the room.  _

_ “I agree,” Lucifer said his voice silencing the quiet chatter in the room. “So, Aziraphale,” Lucifer said with a sneer. He stood up and stalked toward Aziraphale. “You’ve been stripped of your heavenly rank, your name, your memories and are cast down here. You must have really pissed them off.”  _

_ Aziraphale knew nothing of himself, but instincts lead him to self preservation nonetheless. “Must have,” he agreed readily.  _

_ _

_ “Reports say the council of archangels sentenced him to this themselves,” Lucifer continued. He crossed his arms in front of himself. “I’m guessing you don’t remember anything about that either?”  _

_ Aziraphale shook his head. “Wish I could, seems like that would come in handy.” Aziraphale winced. It didn’t seem like a good idea to mouth off to the King of Hell.  _

_ Instead, Lucifer chuckled and the rest of the chamber followed in a nervous laughter. “I can see why they wouldn’t like you,” Lucifer said with a smile. “They’ve all grown boring and serious. Even-” Lucifer shook his head and stomped away, suddenly angry. “Lord Beelzebub!”  _

_ Beelzebub stepped forward. “Your majesty.”  _

_ “If Heaven is mad at Aziraphale, then it seems we should send him to Earth, no?”  _

_ “I’m not questioning your decisions, your majesty,” Beelzebub began, “but given the abnormalities-”  _

_ “We will deal with the abnormalities later,” Lucifer snapped. “We’ve been losing agents on earth anyway, let Aziraphale prove himself, and if he succeeds, well, then it’s a fuck you to the council.”  _

_ And so Aziraphale was sent to Earth on behalf of Hell.  _

**  
  
  
  
  
**

Aziraphale found Crowley standing by the front desk holding out a generously poured glass of wine. He slouched against it and hung his head, peeking out through a curtain of fringe. “Thought you’d need it,” Crowley mumbled quietly as he slowly walked toward Aziraphale. Beyond Crowley he could just see the little display he’d put together while he’d been gone. 

Aziraphale couldn’t help the soft smile that crossed his face. “Quite, thank you,” he whispered quietly as Crowley wrapped an arm around Azirapahle’s shoulder. “I’m so-,so sorry about all of this, my dear,” he says over the top of his wine glass. “I’ve ruined this lovely evening you put together.” 

“You didn’t” Crowley said, seeming surprisingly calm about the whole thing. “Hell did.” He pulled Aziraphale deeper into the shop, locking up with a wave of his hand. The miracle surprised Aziraphale slightly, Crowley really hadn’t been able to do miracles regularly as of late. He sat Aziraphale down at one chair before taking the other. “We can’t allow this.” 

Aziraphale frowned in confusion and turned his head. “What on earth do you mean?” he asked. 

“The end of the world, Armageddon, we can’t allow it to happen,” Crowley said, his voice firm and stronger than Aziraphale had heard it in some time. Ordinarily Aziraphale would be grateful Crowley had such energy. 

“But,” Aziraphale shifted in his seat with an even deeper frown. He didn’t particularly feel loyal to Hell, never really had beyond grateful to be alive, he was loyal to Crowley. But Crowley was still an Angel. Still, truly, deep down, the Archangel Raphael, with a role to play in all of this. Aziraphale was sure of that and he would continue to make sure of that until, well, until Kingdom come, which was now 11 years away. “But wouldn’t that be going against the great plan, my dear?” 

“I’m not sure what the plan is anymore,” Crowley said with a sniff as he turned to his dinner, deliberately avoiding eye contact. 

“Surely you can’t be serious.” Aziraphale scoffed. Crowley and he may both have a more flexible understanding of good, evil, heavenly, and hellish than the average demon and angel, but this? That was a new level for both of them. “It’s the Great Plan, Crowley,  _ you _ cannot go against it.” 

“But what if I was thwarting infernal plans? Stopping Lucifer’s son is the ultimate infernal plan” Crowley said easily almost as if he’d been thinking of nothing but this conversation since they’d ended their phone call and, well, knowing Crowley, it was entirely likely he had been. “And besides, you’re supposed to be the evil influence in his life right?” 

Aziraphale nodded, albeit reluctantly. “Not sure how successful I’m going to be at that, between you and I,” Aziraphale said as he drained his first glass of wine for the evening. 

“I mean you say the usual, crush humanity under foot, rule with an iron fist, you’d know copy what you’ve seen in movies, or in your case, read in books,” Crowley said with an easy shrug. “That’s what I’d do anyway.” 

Aziraphale ignored the last comment. “And you’d be saying what exactly my dear? Everything's sunshine and roses, and the hills are alive with the sound of music?” Aziraphale asked quickly. He winced at his tone once he’d said it. That was too harsh, given everything they’d both been through. “Sorry, I-” 

“Aziraphale,” Crowley reached across the table and took Aziraphale’s free hand in his. “It’s fine.” He squeezed Aziraphale’s hand gently. “Really, I-I think we can do this. Truly.” Aziraphale finally looked up and met Crowley’s gaze. His golden eyes sparkled in a way Aziraphale hadn’t seen in years. And, if he were being perfectly honest with himself, armageddon wasn’t exactly something he’d been looking forward to either. 

“Alright,” Aziraphale said with a nod. “What’s the plan?” 

**  
  
  
  
**

Crowley’s mind was racing at one hundred miles per hour. Armageddon was due to start tomorrow and they had lost the antichrist, no sign of him anywhere. It wasn’t Aziraphale’s fault, he knew that. He did, in his heart of hearts, he knew it had to be someone else’s fault. But that didn’t make tracking down The Adversary any easier. 

They’d tried. They’d tried everything they could think of. Backtracking to the hospital, snooping around Tadfield. But it all seemed dangerous. Someone had run into their car, and Aziraphale, demon though he may be, couldn’t leave her on the side of the road, even if Aziraphale acted oddly afterward. Aziraphale always had better manners than him. He’s who’d taught Warlock proper manners after all. 

Crowley was relieved, deep down, Warlock wasn’t the antichrist, because Crowley wasn’t sure if push came to shove he could sit idly by and let Warlock potentially come to harm. And he knew beyond a shadow of a doubt he could so much as pull one hair on his head. It was the closest Azirphale and he’d ever gotten to children of their own after all. 

_ It was a Friday Evening, usually Aziraphale would have been with Warlock while his parents had an evening out to see and be seen rubbing elbows and pretending they were a happy, loving couple.  _

_ However their regularly scheduled outing was switched to Saturday, at the President’s request, so Aziraphale and Crowley both had the evening off. They settled in with wine for a quiet evening in. Crowley was cooking for Aziraphale, some vegetables and herbs from the personal garden the Dowlings allowed him to keep. Azirphale was mending one of his skirts. Warlock played hard, and Aziraphale couldn’t always keep up, and his clothes certainly could not.  _

_ Crowley frowned. “Who could that be?” He glanced at Aziraphale. “Were you expecting anyone?”  _

_ Aziraphale shook his head, the curls bouncing as he’d let his hair down for the evening. “Not expecting anyone.” The frantic knocking began again. “But I’m still going to see who’s there.”  _

_ Crowley’s whole body tensed at that, and he followed shortly behind Aziraphale, where he could see the front door but not be seen. Just as a third round of knocking began Aziraphale opened the door. Aziraphale took a step back and all of a sudden Crowley could hear a very familiar crying. “Now, Warlock,” Aziraphale said gently. He knelt down and in an instant Warlock was clinging to Aziraphale, burying his face in Aziraphale’s neck. “What’s wrong love?” Warlock furiously shook his head and clung tighter to Aziraphale.  _

_ Crowley forced his heart to stop hammering out of control before fully rounding the corner, so Warlock knew he was also there for support. “It’s alright Warlock,” Crowley said walking closer to the pair. “You’re safe here.”  _

_ Warlock shook his head vigorously again. “No, no, Daddy’s gonna kill me,” Warlock managed between sobs.  _

_ “We won’t let that happen,” Aziraphale promised as he picked the boy up and carried him into the sitting room. Warlock was probably too tall for a woman of Aziraphale’s stature to really pick him up, but who would say anything? Certainly not Crowley. “Nanny and Mr. Anthony would never let that happen.” He sat Warlock down on the sofa. While Aziraphale calmed Warlock down, Crowley went back in to finish cooking dinner, knowing that there absolutely  _ would _ be enough for all three of them to eat. And Warlock and Aziraphale to have seconds if they wanted.  _

_ Once Warlock settled and ate he finally began to speak. “Mommy and Daddy were fighting,” Warlock said with a resigned sigh. Crowley and Aziraphale exchanged a look. Mr. and Mrs. Dowling fighting was nothing new, certainly, but Warlock seemed far too resigned to it.  _

_ “Did you hide in your room?” Crowley asked gently. “Or were you hiding in the garden when it got dark?”  _

_ Warlock shook his head. “N-no. I-I heard mummy leave, so I went into her room to hide. Daddy never goes in there if she’s not there. _

_ “But I got bored just hiding in there,” Warlock said pushing around the last of his dessert on his plate. “And I noticed mummy’s vanity.”  _

_ Aziraphale and Crowley exchanged another measured look. Unlike his parents, Warlock was a curious and open child. He had so many questions, about life, himself, the rest of the world. “You played with her makeup didn’t you?” Crowley asked gently. He’d seen the light smudges of color still left on Warlock’s face when he’d calmed down enough to eat.  _

_ Warlock turned the fork in his hand over and over. “I mean- I wouldn’t-”  _

_ “You wearing makeup doesn’t bother either of us, dear,” Aziraphale said with a small smile. “You should see what Mr. Anthony and I get to on the weekends.”  _

_ Warlock looked up cautiously at Crowley who smiled gently. “I do a killer smoky eye.”  _

_ Warlock laughed quietly, which made both Crowley and Aziraphale laugh too. “I-I wish Dad was like you,” Warlock said with a heavy sigh.  _

_ Crowely bit the inside of his cheek. He could barely stand Mr. Dowling on a good day anyway. Whenever the ambassador tried to talk about religion with the gardener? It took all of Crowley’s self control not to smite him himself, if he could, that and assurances from Aziraphale what was in store for the likes of Mr. Dowling eventually.  _

_ “You’ll always have us,” Crowley managed instead. “No matter what happens.”  _

_ Warlock nodded and smiled shyly. “I know. That’s why I came here.”  _

_ That was the first time Crowley and Aziraphale had let Warlock stay in their guest room, but it wasn’t the last. By the time his 11th birthday rolled around they all jokingly referred to it as his second room, and Crowley and Aziraphale were his second parents.  _

_ But of course the hound never came, leaving both Warlock and Aziraphale in danger.  _

Every little thing Crowley had was being ripped away from him, again and again and again. Aziraphale, their future, Morning Star and the others, his own sacred duty on the council, Warlock, Aziraphale again. Everything. It would all be gone tomorrow. Earth was the only place they could be themselves, together. Unlike anywhere else in all of creation. He paced around the roof of the bookshop, another thing he’d lose. He’d fought so hard and chased down every last lead, and still nothing. 

Crowley saw the door from the shop open and Aziraphale stood in the doorway and Crowley froze. This might be his last night with Aziraphale. 

Crowley all but threw himself into Aziraphale’s arms, but Aziraphale had met him half way, wrapping his arms tightly around Crowley’s waist. 

“Aziraphale,” Crowley said, his voice shaking. “Angel, I don’t-” 

“There’s still time Crowley,” Azriaphale began. “I-” 

Crowley pulled himself out of Aziraphale’s embrace. He felt like it was too tight, no air anywhere. They were trapped in the event horizon of armageddon now. “No, Not there’s not. Not any more.” Aziraphale merely sighed. He ran his fingers through his hair. “Tomorrow. Tomorrow is armageddon.” 

“Crowley-” 

“I will not lose you, Aziraphale, I won’t,” Crowley said, rounding on him in a flash. He hadn’t fought for Aziraphale for over six thousand years to lose him now. “Even when-” 

“If you’d just-” 

Crowley felt like he was in a spiral, he didn’t know which way was up. He stood still. That was his solution. His salvation. He had toyed with the idea before of course, ever since the beginning. But now, at the end of all things it seemed like the only way they could be together. “We don’t have to be apart.” 

Aziraphale’s shoulders dropped with relief. “I know, there’s-” 

Crowley took a deep breath and then a leap of faith. “If I fall, we’ll be together no matter what.” 

Aziraphale froze, his entire demeanor hardened in an instant. “What?” His voice was as cold as ice, and sharp. 

“Aziraphale,” Crowley walked up to him, lifting his hands to gently cup Aziraphale’s face. “If I fall, if I’m no longer an angel, then we’ll be on the same side. Don’t you see? Then it won’t matter who wins.” Crowley smiled gently. “It's the only way.” 

Aziraphale shook his head softly. “No,” he whispered. “No,” he said more forcefully this time. “Absolutely not.” 

Crowley’s face fell. “Angel.” 

“Don’t.” Aziraphale took a step back. “Don’t even think about it.” 

“We can be together, Aziraphale,” Crowley said genuinely dismayed. 

“It’s not worth it.” 

“How can you say that?” Crowley asked, reeling back. “How the hell can you say something like that?” 

“Because I’m the only one standing on this roof that has actually been to hell, in case you’ve forgotten.” 

“Angel.” 

“That’s just it, Crowley, I’m not,” Aziraphale’s voice was even louder now. “I’m not an angel. I fell.”

“It wasn’t-” 

Aziraphale held up a hand. “But it still happened.” 

“Aziraphale,” Crowley ran his fingers through his hair. “How could you not see? We have tried everything else. Nothing else has worked. We’re out of time. Out of options. How can you not  _ see _ ?” 

“How could you?” Aziraphale walked up to Crowley. “The worst thing, the  _ worst _ thing that happened to me, since my creation, and you just throw it around like it’s nothing?” 

“It’s not nothing,” Crowley insisted. “It's everything, it’s  _ us _ , Aziraphale. It's the one thing we have fought for, for thousands of years.” 

“And what of humanity? What of them? What about everything else? Why did I fall if not for something greater?” 

Guilt cut at Crowley then, Aziraphale had a point he was forced to admit. Crowley steeled his spine though. “Aziraphale, I just, I just want to be with you. I’m not afraid, we’ll be together.” Crowley took a step forward. “Aziraphale  _ please _ . I love you.” 

“And I love you,” Aziraphale said, for the first time since he fell. “Which is why I can’t let you do this. It’s… It’s hell Crowley. You cannot imagine it.” 

“Try me.” 

Aziraphale shook his head. “You can’t. It’s completely unfathomable. They burned my wings Crowley. My wings. They cut everything away, my connection to you, to heaven. Do you have any idea idea what that feels like in your soul?” He let out a small, humorless laugh. “And I’m not talking about physical pain yet. So you can see, my dear, why I wouldn’t want someone I love, yes love, to experience that.” 

“But-But I-” 

“Crowley, no,” Aziraphale said, his tone final. 

Crowley didn’t know what to do, so he did the only thing he could do, he used the most energy he had used in years to manifest his wings and flew away. He heard Aziraphale calling after him, but he could fly faster. He could fly faster than anything in her creation. He just prayed that he could outfly himself. 

**  
  
  
**

Aziraphale stood in front of the bookshop in the rain. Well, what used to be his bookshop. It was just a fire now. And No Crowley. Crowley's presence was nowhere to be found, nowhere on earth. That’ll teach Aziraphale to step out to try and get a train ticket to Tadfield while Crowley was sorting himself out. 

Out of the corner of his eye he saw a figure running away from the fire. Quickly. Aziraphale sensed guilt and pounced. 

“Sergeant Shadwell,” Aziraphale said, none of his usual kindness in his words. 

“Mist-Mr. Fell?” Shadwell asked, taken aback at how Aziraphale had appeared before him. He stood up straighter. “Just the man I was looking for.” 

“What happened?” Aziraphale asked in a sharp tone and leveled Shadwell with a glare. 

“Mr. Fell, I- uh, well, you see,” Shadwell said with none of his normal bluster. “There was-“ Aziraphale’s unamused glare intensified with a small nudge of demonic energy. “Your shop had been invaded by a demon.” 

“Oh?” Aziraphale asked mockingly. He took a step forward forcing Shadwell to take a step backward into an alley. “Is that so?” 

“That-that creature in your shop,” Shadwell took another step back, his eyes darted around looking for an exit and finding none. “He-it had wings the color of hellfire. Tha-it. It was on the roof and it came in.” 

Aziraphale felt himself briefly lose control of his own rippling energy. Crowley had come back. Of course he had. He should have known he would. Crowley always came back for him. Bless, Aziraphale felt like an absolute fool. Instead of doing anything logical like waiting for Crowley to get over himself, he’d gone and tried to arrange his own travel to Tadfield. 

He’d tried. He had tried to tell Crowley about about the book he’d found after their accident in Tadfield. THere wasn’t reason to give up yet. But it seemed like Crowley had. But of course, Crowley came back for him. Like hie always did.

“And then?” He said his voice a deep growl. 

“What?” 

“And then what?” Aziraphale took another step forward, crowding menacingly into Shadwell’s space. “Last I checked bookshops don’t burst into flame without reason.” 

“I cannot allow demons to walk the earth. I’m a witch finder, I banished that-that thing, the fire is probably it’s last curse upon the earth,” Shadwell stood tall feeling defiant. “I’ve done you a favor you southern pansy. The least you could do is be grateful.” 

In a flicker of darkness Aziraphale unfurled his wings. They still smoked and and embers fell from the tips. “You’ve made a grave mistake Sgt. Shadwell.” Once again Shadwell’s eyes widened in fear at the sight. Aziraphale allowed his features to shift. His eyes grew larger and more feathers erupted from his skin. “Crowley was the one being that could have saved your pathetic arse.” Talons gripped Shadwell’s collar and pushed him up the alley wall. 

“You-You’re both?” 

“I am, yes,” Aziraphale said, his voice low and near melodic. “I am everything you fear, Sgt. Shadwell, but Crowley?” He laughed, but his voice was hollow. “Crowley was the last good thing on this earth, and you killed him.” 

Sgt. Shadwell truly looked like he had the fear of God in him now, but Aziraphale knew God wouldn’t help him now. Not if she wouldn’t even help her best Angel. “I-It’s not-I didn’t-” 

“You  _ killed  _ the Archangel Raphael on the very day of armageddon,” Aziraphale growled, low, his voice reverberating. “I hope you’re happy.” 

“No, no,” Shadwell protested vigorously shaking his head.”He-He couldn’t-” More guilt seeped into Shadwell, Aziraphale didn’t have to do anything. “I just meant to exorcise him, I don’t know where the- the fire was an accident. The candle was already out,” he continued. “Oh god, please. I’m sorry, I’m so sorry.” Tears streamed from Shadwells eyes. “I never thought Mr. Crowley- I never meant.” 

Aziraphale released Shadwell from his grip, his form slowly becoming more and more human. “I need you to do something for me.” 

Shadwell fell to his knees. “Anything.” 

“Take me to Tadfield Airbase.” 

Shadwell did a double take. “I-That’s why I was here, to ask for money for a mission there from Mr. Crowley.” 

Aziraphale broke out into a slightly manic cackle at this point. Was this the great plan? The Ineffable Plan? Aziraphale didn’t care anymore. He’d save the world to fuck it all over. Because that any plan that called for Crowley’s death wasn’t worth seeing through. 

**  
  
  
  
**

Crowley was coughing, but he felt safe and loved. He opened his eyes, but the light was still near blinding so he shut them just as quickly. His head was in a daze and he had no way to orient himself. What was up and what was down meant nothing to him. Vaguely he felt himself being shaken and his name, both of them, being shouted at him. 

His eyes opened again and Michael came into focus, though it sounded like she was miles and miles away. “Raphael, Raphael, stay with me please, I can’t lose you too.” 

Crowley forced himself to blink and truly look at his sister. “Wh-” He coughed because his throat felt dry and scratchy. Michael sat him up and rubbed his back gently as he tried to orient himself. He smelled the distinct smell of ash and smoke. Had he fallen after all? There was a distinct taste of soot in his mouth. “What happened?” 

Michael didn’t answer, she pulled him tightly against herself, this didn’t make it easier to breathe, but he found he didn’t need to and allowed himself to be held. Michael’s body trembled with emotion. She pulled him closer to herself, truly in an iron grip now. Weakly, Crowley brought up his arms and held his sister back. He wasn’t entirely sure what was going on, but clearly, she needed this. 

“R-Raphael, Crowley,” Michael whispered. “I thought I’d lost you.” 

“W-What happened?” Crowley repeated weakly.

Michael adjusted her grip so she could look him in the eye. Her eyes were red with tears and she had soot on her face. “You-You were trying to-to call her I imagine.” She sniffled. Crowley concentrated and conjured a handkerchief and handed it to her. “But-but then there was a human there, and then a fire. Your body was dying. And somehow, somehow I knew.” She shook her head. “It was like, like She sent me to you. I saved what I could.” She held his face in her hands. “I couldn’t-I couldn’t lose you too. And if if Gabriel found you like that-” 

Crowley nodded, Gabriel was unlikely to not take advantage of his current weakness. Crowley finally took a moment to focus on himself. He’d lost his body, that wasn’t a surprise. The fire at their home had been pretty intense. 

Wait. 

His home. Their home. “Aziraphale?” He asked suddenly reaching out and grabbing Michael’s shoulders. “Aziraphale where is he? Is he?” 

“I don’t know,” Michael admitted. Before Crowley could fully start panicking she continued. “He wasn’t in the shop. He’s alive but, forgive me, I was a bit more focused on making sure you were alright than finding him.” 

Crowley breathed a sigh of relief. “Well, I suppose that’s alright. This time,” he said, trying to get his sister to smile.

And smile she did, though she shook her head. “What the hell are you doing?” 

Crowley sighed. Michael would not be happy with the answer to that question, but he was running out of time, and running out of options. “I’m trying to stop armageddon.” 

Michael’s face fell. “This is not the time for joking.” 

“I’m not.” 

“Crowley,” Michael said, fully untangling herself from him now. “You cannot be serious.” She shook her head, but her voice wavered. “We have a sacred duty-” 

“To protect humanity,” Crowley agreed. 

“Stop.” 

“Our job, our one job,” Crowley continued, ignoring her, somehow sensing a change in his sister. “Above all else, above even our love for her, is to love them.” 

“We’ve had this conversations thousands of times,” Michael said, looking oddly uncomfortable this time. She looked everywhere but at him. 

There was something different this time. Crowley felt in inexorable pull, to keep the conversation. He had to save the world and get to Aziraphale, yes, but perhaps something more? The feeling was gone just as quickly. “Yes, but now armageddon is actually here,” Crowley pressed. “And a lot of humanity is going to die before it’s over. Do you really think that’s what She wants?” 

“I don’t know, anymore,” Michael said softly. She hung her head. “I haven’t known what to do since I was last on earth.” 

“Then help me,” Crowley insisted. He held a hand out to his sister. “Please.” 

“What do you need?” Michael asked, shaking his hand . 

“A body, to start,” Crowley said. 

“I don’t think I could get you one before we’d be out of time,” Michael said with a frown. “And that’s even if we didn’t attract Gabriel’s attention.” 

Crowley paced back and forth, running his fingers through his hair. “I- I don’t know,” he admitted. “I just,” he let out a frustrated growl. “I just know, here,” he said pointing to his heart. “That if I get down to where Aziraphale is, then things will work out.” 

“Alright,” Michael said with a curt nod. “But quickly. I don’t want time to regret this.” 

Crowley frowned. “I still don’t have a body,” he pointed out. “I’m not gonna get far without one.” 

Michael smirked at him. “Guess we’ll have to share.” 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This fic is not dead. This chapter just changed like 500 times while I was writing it. When your fic has evolved in a different way from your original outline somethings gotta give and change. The Aziraphale and Crowley I have before you are not the ones from my outline and I had to reconcile the two in a way that was true to them. 
> 
> Then I made myself cry while writing it. 
> 
> And then, add on a really difficult work situation, exams, chronic pain and it was difficult to get this out. This was always the chapter I was having the most trouble with when outlining it anyway so, no promises, but the rest of the fic should come more quickly. 
> 
> If you need some happier fics, please feel free to check out my other fics. I've started publishing what I refer to as Wedding!AU in Operation: I Do. It's pure fluff and a good palette cleanser from this fic.

**Author's Note:**

> tumblr is yarsian. Comments, kudos, bookmarks and recs are always appreciated.


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